


Something Found

by Sweasley



Series: Don't F*** It Up [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Seventh Year, POV Dominique Weasley, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Romance, Sex, Sibling Bonding, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:02:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 177,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24216358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweasley/pseuds/Sweasley
Summary: Dominique Weasley's seventh-year at Hogwarts was supposed to be typical. But Quidditch, boys, school, and a completely unexpected-and in her opinion, unnecessary-event at school will not only shake up her life, but the lives of so many of the people she knows. She's in for quite the year. (Part 2 of 4)Originally posted on ff.net.
Relationships: Dominique Weasley/Original Male Character(s), Louis Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Don't F*** It Up [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748587
Comments: 40
Kudos: 25





	1. Dead to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: If you recognize someone, they belong to JKR. The others are creations of mine to fill the gaps. Plus, any similarities are accidental and completely unintentional.
> 
> A/N: Something Found is Part 2 of a (soon to be) three part story. I DO NOT recommend continuing without checking out Part 1 The Quidditch Trials. You'll be missing things if you don't. Don't miss things.
> 
> This story and its companions are a continuation of the world I began way back with my original Ted/Victoire series. While this trilogy will stand completely on its own and does not require you to check out the previous stories, those that have will notice that details travel in between. I personally would recommend starting from the beginning of the T/V series, but I also took the time to write everything. I obviously want you to do that. :)

"You're home," said Henry Davies, standing there with his hands in his pockets and an oddly kind smile on his face. "I'd been coming by all week."

Dominique Weasley continued to stare at him from her front door. She didn't even blink, not until she realized she was holding her breath and her lungs were starting to burn. Why was her ex here? What did he want? She didn't know what to think or say, so she did the only thing that made sense. She slowly shut the door in his face.

"Who was it?" her best friend, Sarah Kirke, had asked from the living room.

She didn't turn away from the door. She was staring at it with the intensity that one might if they were studying for an exam; trying to memorize every detail. "Henry."

Sarah inhaled sharply from somewhere behind her. That had been anticipated. Sarah wasn't fond of Henry—none of her friends were after the breakup. Henry Davies, her ex...what? Boyfriend wasn't the right word, but he was something. He'd chucked her weeks before and it had shaken her up, but she'd been on the mend recently. She'd gone on holiday to France and also to the Quidditch Trials, where she'd managed to hook up with one of the best looking guys there while also realizing there were other—better—boys in the universe. It had taught her there was life after Henry. She didn't need him.

"What did he want?" asked Sarah.

"I don't know. I shut the door."

"Is he still there?"

"I can't see through the door."

Sarah went to check through the window, though it was unnecessary since Henry knocked once again. Both girls exchanged looks. Dominique was at a loss. She'd assumed she'd kicked him out of her system, but now all she felt were conflicting desires for him to both leave and stay at the exact same time. How could she want to see him but also want to run away?

"Tell him to fuck off," Sarah said, glancing back out the window. "Want me to? You know Louis will."

Louis, her brother, who was currently upstairs showering. He hated Henry as much as Sarah did. He'd never been a fan, but he'd always kept his opinion mostly to himself; he was one of the few people that understood the more you pushed her, the more she felt the need to do the very opposite. It was how she worked. If he knew Henry was downstairs, he'd have something to say about it.

Everything was suddenly happening so quickly. Why was he here? What did he want? He'd been coming by all week? That's what he'd said. What could he possibly have to say that warranted a single trip here, let alone multiple? Her mind was reeling. She had to talk to him. He'd looked good from the ten seconds she'd caught a glimpse. Shit, why did that matter?

"I…" Dominique said, taking a deep breath. "I'll do it. I'll go talk to him."

"You don't need to talk to him," Sarah spat. "Just tell him to go fuck himself—"

"Hey, love," Louis suddenly called from the top of the stairs. He'd emerged from the shower with only his trousers on and carrying around a towel in his hand. He was smiling widely, his eyes on his girlfriend. "You're a sight. I missed you."

"Heeey," Sarah said, now looking conflicted. She evidently wanted to see Louis, but clearly felt compelled to see what was happening here.

"Come up," Louis called back down before disappearing from sight. If Dominique knew them, they would probably be up there for a bit. If it took them a half an hour to say goodbye on a normal day, it would take them just as long to say hello again. There would probably be a lot less clothes this time.

"Just a sec," Sarah called, still staring at Dominique. "Whatever Davies has to say it doesn't matter. You know that."

She shrugged, feeling perfectly capable of handling this on her own. She wasn't a child and she wasn't afraid of him; she'd just been caught off guard before. "Lou's waiting. You should go and see him. It's been a week. Isn't that the longest the two of you have ever been apart?"

"Dominique."

"Sarah," she mimicked before another knock followed. She didn't hesitate that time and reached to pull on the handle. Henry was still standing there, looking confused, but she felt far more collected this time now.

His eyes went straight to Sarah, who wasn't even attempting not to glare at him. "Sarah," he said without much sincerity. The feeling of distaste was mutual.

She didn't respond; she instead made a spectacle of scoffing before turning to walk up the stairs. Dominique distinctly heard the word, "Arsehole" as she walked away.

Dominique turned back to him, having caught him on the tailend of an eyeroll that was presumably aimed at Sarah. He'd gotten a haircut since the last time she'd seen him. Before it had been longer—past his ears with his fringe hanging in his face. He'd cleaned it up a bit and taken it a bit shorter. It looked nice. She could actually see his eyes now.

"Look," he began. "I know you probably don't want to see me."

"What do you want?" she asked, stepping out onto the porch and shutting the door behind her to avoid any stray ears that may be trying to eavesdrop. "Must be important if you felt the need to come by daily."

"I was hoping to talk to you," he said, watching as she walked straight past him toward a nearby chair. "I guess you were out of town."

"France."

"Right," he said, nodding his head. "You'd mentioned that. I'd forgotten."

That wasn't surprising. When did he ever listen? She sat down and stared at him. Now that she properly looked at him, he was dressed nicer than usual. His clothes looked newer—not his usual old t-shirts and beat-up trainers. He must have been shopping lately.

He went and took the seat beside her, though didn't immediately say anything. He was absently running his index finger up and down his thumb as he stared out at the sea in the distance.

"Are you going to talk?" she asked. "You came here for some reason."

He turned to look at her. "I feel I fucked up."

"What else is new?" she muttered, leaning back in her chair and glancing out at the sea herself. "You're a fuck up. It's what you do."

"I deserve that."

"'You deserve that," she mumbled to herself with a small laugh. "Don't even get me started on the things you deserve."

The front door opened then, and out came Louis. He was fully dressed now with Sarah in tow. Dominique was genuinely surprised to see them, seeing as she'd been convinced they would try and get in a quickie before Diagon Alley. It seemed they were both more concerned with what was happening here. She almost felt special to know that she trumped their reunion sex.

"Weasley," Henry said, throwing Louis an obligatory—but clearly forced-nod. "It's been a bit."

"Why are you here?" Louis said.

"Louis, stop," Dominique said, throwing him a look. She didn't need a protector stepping in. What was he going to do? Rough Henry up? That would be a sight. Tell him off? She was fully capable of doing that on her own and he knew it. Yes, he was clearly the better wandsman, but she had a wand, too. She knew how to use it. Not that it would come to that.

"Nic," Louis said, "can I talk to you?"

"No," she said, still staring at him. "I'm in the middle of another conversation right now."

His face tensed up. He was annoyed and she knew it. She knew it better than anyone because she caused that look more often than anyone else did.

She chose to ignore him. "And it's a private conversation. Aren't you going to Diagon Alley anyway?"

"Are you not coming?" Sarah asked.

"No, she's coming," Louis said without missing a beat.

"Go on without me, I'll meet you in a bit. It'll give you two some alone time. You haven't seen each other in a week, after all."

Louis pulled a face. "You can't possibly...?" He laughed rather humorlessly.

She and her brother stared at each other; silently daring the other one to push this. If he, for one second, thought that he was going to intimidate her in any way, shape, or form, he had another thing coming. Did he hit his head and forget who he was dealing with?

"Fine, fuck it. Do what you want." He looked over at Henry before turning back to his sister. "I swear to Merlin—"

"Bye, Lou," Dominique interrupted, throwing him a blunt wave.

It was Sarah who tugged on his arm and pulled him, rather begrudgingly, toward the steps and out into the garden. She could distinctly hear her tell him, "You know you can't argue with her when she's—" but they both disappeared the next moment; gone without a trace. She was going to get an earful from both of them later—especially her brother—but she didn't care. Let them.

"I won't keep you from your plans," Henry said, causing her to look back at him. "Wouldn't want to give your brother anymore reason to hate me."

"As if you give a shit what Louis thinks."

He laughed at that. "No, I really don't…" He shrugged. "Look, I know things ended shitty, but I've been thinking about you constantly."

She looked back out at the sea. As much as she enjoyed hearing that in a selfish way, she couldn't help but think he wanted something. Thinking about her constantly? He'd barely thought about her when they were together. Why would that have changed?

"I get that we don't make sense and that no one in our lives wants us to be—" He gestured between the two of them, "you know."

She noticed he was doing a masterful job of not using any terms that would otherwise refer to them being together or a couple. It was almost a skill how much he avoided talking about an actual connection.

"But shit, I feel like we've got something, you know?"

"I had considered that, yeah." She turned to look at him. "I still don't understand why you're here. You don't want to get back together, because we were never really together in the first place. You made that clear. And if you want to change that, then three days before I leave for the next nine months seems like a really stupid time to suggest it. We've only ever been what we were because it was convenient and easy. You told me that. Me being off at school isn't either of those things."

"You're right."

"What do you want, then?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "I want you. I'm not sure how, but…" He sighed. "However, you'd have me."

What the fuck was he talking about? Was he listening to himself? 'However that she'd have him?' She was going back to Hogwarts—far, far away from him. They'd never see each other. The best they could work out would be he could come to Hogsmeade on her free days and they'd...what? Chat over a butterbeer? They didn't chat. Their relationship had been 80% sex and 20% idle chit chat that served as a precursor to sex. If he missed anything, it was the sex.

"I miss what we had," he said quietly. " And I had to try. Maybe the chance to see you when you're home. Have the option—"

"You want the option to have sex when I'm home," she said bluntly. "Just say it."

"If we're being honest," he shrugged, turning his body toward her. "Fine, then yeah. I miss that. I miss you. I miss being inside of you."

"Stop."

"You said to say it. I do miss it. And I'd like to think you do, too. We both liked that part.

She hated herself, but she did miss it. She missed the closeness, the familiarity, the comfortable feeling of knowing what was happening and what to expect. She absolutely hated herself for feeling that way, but it didn't change the fact she felt it. She also hated that he knew that about her. He knew he could play on that and make her feel a bit weaker. She had to remind herself that after sleeping with Stuart, he wasn't her only option. She could find other blokes.

"I'm doing alright for myself," she finally said.

"I've heard."

She looked over at him. Did he know already? Henry's best friend—Griffin Giggleswick—had been at the Trials and she knew he'd gotten wind of her night with Stuart. Had he already told him?

"About you and Reynolds," he said, though he looked pained to say it.

She smirked a little. It seemed Giggleswick was a little stooge and did tell his mate everything he'd heard. How predictable. "You heard right, then." She looked back at him. "So, see? You can be replaced. And fairly quickly, I might add."

"You want me to admit I'm jealous?"

"Are you?"

"Insanely."

She continued to stare at him. Was he really? Her chest swelled a bit; she was happy to hear it. Good. He should have felt jealous. She'd upgraded and there wasn't a single thing he could do to change that now.

"When Griff told me, I fucking punched a metal post." He held up his hand to it to her, where, sure enough, it had bruises all over his knuckles. It must have happened a few days earlier. The purplish welts looked as if they were closer to healing than being fresh.

"That was stupid."

"No shit," he said, glancing down at his hand and slowly flexing his fingers in and out. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. I'm lucky I didn't break it. I don't even know what came over me." He glanced over at her. She was still fairly close considering she'd been looking at his hand a moment earlier; his face wasn't far from hers. She could really see his eyes now. They had always been a warm shade of brown.

"I want things to be good between us," he said quietly. "That's all. If good means we can occasionally get together and do whatever, then…"

She laughed, but not because she was amused. He was so transparent. She actually had to give him credit for his shamelessness. He wanted them to be on good terms so they could casually have sex. She'd never in a million years thought she'd be having this conversation today. "You're ridiculous, Davies."

"Back to calling me Davies again?" he asked, looking straight into her eyes.

"It's your name."

"Yeah, but you stopped calling me it not long after we started messing around. I haven't heard it in awhile. Brings back memories of when we started this."

"Yeah, well, Davies reminds me of when you were nothing more than a dickhead who was the bane of my existence," she said, staring right back at him. "It's easier to hate you when I call you that."

"And Henry was?"

She hesitated for a moment, wanting to look away from him but somehow glued to staring into his eyes. "Henry wasn't so bad."

"So, I need to get you to start calling me Henry again?"

She finally forced herself to look away, pulling herself to stand up and get away from him. "Henry's dead to me."

He quickly stood up from his chair as well. "He's not." He stepped closer to her and she made the mistake of letting him. "It's your call, but I know you miss it, too." He reached out and ran his fingers up and down her arm, which caused her to immediately get goosepimples.

Fuck. This wasn't good.

"I…" she stammered, thinking about nothing more than what was happening on her right arm right then. "Look, no—"

He leaned in and kissed her. His familiar lips on hers; she did nothing but let him. Once he realized he wasn't getting smacked or cursed away, he went in harder; kissing her more fiercely and pulling her body toward him. She was lost entirely in the moment; her head swimming with so many thoughts ranging from, 'This need to stop' to "But it feels good. It feels comfortable.'

She didn't stop it. She even kissed him back. She was all in at this point.

"Is anybody else home?" he asked, breathlessly, his hands now moving up her body.

"No." She closed her eyes and let herself fall in. He knew her spots and she already knew where this was going. She was too weak to resist it. "Just get upstairs."


	2. King's Cross

Dominique slammed her trunk shut in a satisfying sort of way. She'd been doing nothing but packing and unpacking for the last month, but this was the final time until Christmastime. By the end of the day she would be back at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for her seventh and final year. She would be one step closer to no longer being a student and letting adulthood completely wash over her. Not that it didn't sometimes feel it hadn't already.

At the door of her room, Louis suddenly appeared. He was already dressed to leave for King's Cross, looking particularly casual in his Muggle clothes. He seemed to be standing taller these days, which she had to assume was somehow tied to being the new Head Boy and feeling in charge. People would let him, too; he had that magnetism about him.

Tall, handsome, charming, popular—everyone at Hogwarts ate it up. Everyone but her. She knew the real him—the one who could be anxious and vulnerable and snarky and obnoxious. The one that was prone to debilitating nightmares and sudden anxiety attacks if he didn't keep up with taking the daily potions he'd been prescribed since he was eight. He didn't let any of that bubble to the surface often, but she knew him better than anyone. She tended to prefer her version of her brother over the one the public got to see. It was far less polished and much more real.

"You all packed?" he asked.

She nodded, looking around her room to see if she'd forgotten anything. "You?"

"Just finished."

"Sarah meeting you at King's Cross?"

He nodded before he let his face grow stony. "Is Davies coming to see you off?"

There was his obnoxious side. She took it back. She didn't always enjoy the other sides of her brother. "No."

He hummed before turning away. "Go figure."

She glared at him as he went; not at all surprised by his response, but not appreciating it either. She knew he wasn't happy with some of her choices, but it really wasn't any of his business. He had no idea what it was like inside of her head.

For someone who knew her as well as he did, he didn't seem to grasp that they didn't work the same way with relationships. He'd been carrying-on and snogging girls since he was ten; practically beating them off with a stick. He'd been through the ups and downs of adolescent hormones and dating; he knew that if one relationship didn't work out, he'd have another one lined up in days. She didn't work like that.

She oddly had a hard time with those feelings; she shut down when it came to crushes and romance. While her friends were holding hands and getting their first kisses, she was running away from the idea of all of that. She hadn't kissed a boy until she was nearly seventeen, and when she had it had been Henry. It hadn't exactly been romantic—there were no flowers and rainbows and overwhelming feelings of love—but it had been nice and it had made her feel desired. She'd never felt that before.

Perhaps that was why she'd grown attached to Henry. He'd actually taken the time to make her feel attractive and sexy—even when he was an arsehole. It was like a curse. She knew she shouldn't, but when he'd come by her house a few days earlier, she'd crumbled like a house of cards. She'd not only kissed him and immediately turned around and slept with him, but she'd also let him back into her life.

They'd never had a proper relationship, but what they had was oddly theirs. They weren't together, but they also were. She'd claim him, but she'd never, ever use the word boyfriend. It wasn't that kind of thing, which worked just fine for her. He said he'd write to her—which she didn't believe—and that he'd try to visit her during Hogsmeade trips. She'd come home for the holidays and they could reconnect. It was meant to be casual, which was all she needed. Someone to hook up with on occasion with no serious emotions or real feelings.

Louis hadn't seen it that way. He'd returned from a day's shopping in Diagon Alley—a shopping trip she'd never met them for—with a lecture she was already expecting. Why would she take him back? Why wouldn't she cut him out? Why on Earth did she fuck him? What was wrong with her? He's a fucking arsehole. She could do better. They were all questions she didn't have an answer to because she knew it didn't make sense. She wasn't going to change his mind. Why try?

She'd spent her last two days of summer holiday avoiding Louis and his comments; choosing instead to dodge him and their friends. She didn't want to have any conversations about Henry right now; she wanted to ignore it. There was an eight hour train ride back to Hogwarts where she'd be stuck in a train compartment with all of them; they could ask all of their questions then.

Back in her room, she grabbed her wand and charmed her trunk to be feather light as she pulled it out into the corridor and down the stairs. Her father was busy in the kitchen, though once he heard her, he placed the dish towel he'd been holding down and walked into the foyer.

"About time to go." He checked the time. "We should probably be leaving."

"You are aware you don't have to take us to King's Cross anymore?" she said as she dropped her trunk down with a dull thud. "We're seventeen."

"I will never not take you to King's Cross," said her father, who stood as proudly now as he did on her first day of school. "My parents did it with me when I was a seventh-year, so I'll do it with you."

"Your parents had about a hundred kids," Dominique muttered. "They weren't taking you, you just happened to be there when they had to take the little ones."

He laughed at that. "Regardless, it's tradition."

Tradition. Her parents seemed so heavily invested in it. She and her siblings would always wake on the first day of school and have the same crepe breakfast. Their mother would run through a checklist of all the things they had to take to school with them and make them all triple check that they had everything packed.

Then their father would take them all to King's Cross where they would cross through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾, board the train, and wave goodbye like all the other students. That was all well and good for when they were smaller, but she and Louis were seventeen now. They were adults. They didn't even have to take the train to school anymore; they could both easily Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk up to the school as many—if not most—of the other seventh-years did.

But they couldn't do that because...tradition. Well, that and the fact that Louis was required to take the train since he was Head Boy. He had to hold a prefects' meeting on the way to school along with the newly appointed Head Girl. More importantly, he now had his own private train compartment that came with unlimited snacks. He and the friends of his choosing could enjoy that perk, which was really the only reason Dominique was willing to suck up the train journey this one last time.

"It's your final 'first day of school' ride," said her father, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Enjoy it. You don't get anymore of these."

"Thank Merlin for that," said Dominique. "There's a reason you don't take a train anywhere, Dad. Once you can Apparate, you do."

"Oh, let him have this," said her mother, bustling into the foyer with a bag full of—what Dominique could only assume—were snacks for the train. Her mother had never been fond that the train seemed to only offer candy and, as she called it, junk. If someone dared to bring up the subject, she would always launch into a lecture of how at her school, Beauxbatons, the food was always far better and healthier. Dominique was not about to remind her of the unlimited black licorice wands that she would soon have at her disposal.

"Lou!" her father called up the stairs. "Let's go! You cannot miss the train!"

"They'd probably hold it for him," Dominique mumbled. "Can't leave without the prince of Hogwarts."

"Heard that!" yelled a voice from the top of the stairs, just as her brother hustled quickly out of his room, his trunk dragging behind him. He led it all the way to the stairs and let it thud down each and every one until he reached the bottom.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked him.

"Bringing my trunk downstairs? Yes. I'm sure I'll need my things at school."

"No, I meant the whole acting like a Muggle—a lazy one, at that—to get it downstairs. Forget your wand? You might need that."

Louis rolled his eyes, "Did you manage to fit all that scathing wit in that trunk of yours?"

"It's always the first thing I pack. You know that." She grinned at him, though he was now making a point to ignore her.

For as much as she loved her brother, she sometimes wondered how the two of them were even related, let alone twins. Back when they were small children they at least looked fairly similar: blonde hair that they had inherited from their mother—though Louis' had darkened significantly now that he was older— bright smiles that they had inherited from their father, and blue eyes and other various attractive features that they had inherited from both of their beautiful parents. These days, that was where the similarities ended.

Louis was just like both of their parents—intelligent, attractive, charming, and good at everything. He would probably grow up to be just like them; successful in his chosen career and married to an equally perfect person before starting their own little family of perfectly attractive children. Boys were keen to be his friend and wanted him around, while girls were _more_ than keen on him and wanted him around as more than a friend.

It was only getting more and more apparent the older he became that he was fairly unstoppable once he put his mind to something. He probably was going to grow up to be Minister of Magic or someone very important. Though, despite all of this, he remained fairly grounded. His head could easily be bigger than his body if he let his own hype get to him, but Dominique liked to think that was her true role in her brother's life.

She kept him in check and could always be counted on to let the wind out of his sails a bit. Sure, he may have taken and passed four of his N.E.W.T exams early as a sixth-year, but he also wet the bed until he was eight thanks to those nightmares he always had. She was always there to remind him of his shortcomings when he got a little too high on himself.

On the contrary, she was not the charmer that her brother was. She was the loud, brash, in-your-face and mostly unapologetic one. She said what she thought, sometimes without thinking, which more often than not got her into trouble that she easily could have avoided if she simply filtered herself. She was an average student in a family full of practical geniuses, but she was an excellent athlete-something no one else in her family could boast of being. She cared more about Quidditch than school, and she never bothered to hide that fact.

She had always felt like black sheep of her otherwise perfect family. Her older sister, Victoire, much like Louis, had lived a charmed life. Beautiful and intelligent; always the top of everything and always revered by the masses. While she and Louis worked and studied for everything, they always made it seem so easy to be so perfect and popular. Dominique, in contrast, could never quite figure out the people-pleasing part that came so easily to her brother and sister. She had lived the same happy, healthy life that their parents had provided for them— the same resources and opportunities were available to all three—and their parents loved them all in different ways.

She couldn't even argue that she'd unfortunately missed out on inheriting her parents' good looks because—conventionally speaking—she was just as attractive as the rest of her family. But while Louis and Victoire were prim and polished with their good looks on display each and every day, Dominique, from a young age, had often done everything in her power to mask her pretty face, slim figure, and shiny silver-blonde hair. Something about the idea of being attractive struck such a chord of anxiety in her that she'd spent most of her adolescence ignoring her appearance entirely. It wasn't until a year ago, at sixteen—after she decided to chop her generally unkempt hair—that something inside of her clicked and she began even attempting to look presentable.

In the past, she had just never cared if she was dirty from hours spent on the Quidditch pitch or looked slovenly as she wore her brother's over sized clothes. It had never mattered to her what people thought; her attitude had soon started to match her outward appearance in order to combat the people who felt she should have been more like her sister. "You'd be so pretty if you just tried like Victoire…" a few would say. Those comments always pushed her further in the opposite direction.

At seventeen, though, with her hair grown out to her shoulders and properly brushed everyday, she was now starting to embrace not hiding herself to the world. She was by no means out on display or flashy, but her clothes now fit her, she showered after Quidditch practice instead of opting not to, and she didn't attempt to repel people with her looks. Much of this had been due to Henry coming into her life last year, though she also assumed that it was partly her becoming more of an adult.

"Is this everything?" their father asked, glancing at both of their trunks and her broom sitting beside the door. "We're ready?"

Louis and Dominique nodded in very similar ways. Their mother was standing there looking teary eyed, which was another tradition of sorts. She didn't like to come down to King's Cross because she knew she would cry and didn't want people seeing her upset. She and Dominique had that in common. Other than their very first days of school, their mother refused to come. She instead insisted on saying goodbye to them from the comfort of her home and letting their father do the actual work.

"Have a great first term," she said, reaching for Louis first and already letting the tears come freely. "I will miss you so much, but Christmastime is just around the corner."

"What if I stayed at school for the holidays?" Dominique asked. "I mean, I've heard N.E.W.T.s can be so intense you need all that time to study."

Her mother's head shot up off of Louis' shoulder with a look of horror. "You can study here. You will come home. I will come and get you if you do not."

"We're coming home," Louis said, shooting Dominique a look telling her to knock it off. Always the people-pleaser, even with their own mother. She couldn't compete. She wouldn't be surprised if the only reason she had to come home for the holidays was because it would look awful for them to tell Louis he had to, only to tell her she could do what she wanted.

"Dominique," her mother said, walking over to hug her. "Please be good. Your exams…"

"I know, Mum," she said, feeling the crushing weight of her hug around her chest. Her mother was much stronger than people gave her credit for. "I'll be good. I'll study. I promise."

"We have to go," her father said as he observed them from the door. "Train leaves in twenty minutes."

Their mother went and hugged them both again, this time kissing them on both cheeks and showering them with 'I love yous'. She told Louis how proud she was of his Head Boy achievement and wished him the best term possible; she again told Dominique to please be good and enjoy her final Quidditch season. She was full on crying by then end of their goodbye, which Dominique had to admit hit her in the feels. She went and gave her an extra hug.

After numerous more 'I love yous' from all parties, Dominique and Louis both grabbed their trunks—and her broom—and gave their father similar looks of readiness. They all knew where to go and in the next moment, Dominique's home disappeared immediately from view only to be replaced by a secluded back alley that she knew to be behind King's Cross station. Louis and her father were already there. Her father volunteered to retrieve a trolley as the pair waited, both discussing how dumb it was that they had to pretend to be Muggles for ten minutes.

"What if I walk a levitating trunk through the station?" Dominique was asking once her father returned. "Give them all a show?"

"There really should be a way to just Apparate inside of Platform 9 ¾," Louis muttered, helping his father lift his trunk onto the trolley.

"You can both deal with it for a couple of minutes," their father said as they navigated through the busy train station and Muggle commuters. Dominique noticed a small first-year with overbearing parents fussing over their belongings. He had a large owl sitting in a cage, and she wagered they had to have been Muggleborn given how unsubtle they were acting. Her own father was observing them carefully; probably gauging whether he should offer some assistance.

"Is anyone getting Sorted today that we know?" Louis asked, glancing at Dominique before his father. "Freddie got to be eleven by now, right? Hugo too, maybe? I can't ever keep their ages straight, but I know they're all due soon."

"Freddie and Lucy are both headed into their first years," said their father, referring to, respectively, her Uncle George and Uncle Percy's children. Louis wasn't wrong to be confused. They had a lot of aunts and uncles-and even more cousins-to count. She and her siblings were the oldest of the bunch, followed by their cousin Molly who was a fifth-year now. After her came James Potter, who would have been headed into his fourth year. Then beyond that, there was a large pocket all in the nine to twelve year-old range that mostly blended together. She could barely keep track of them.

"The whole family will be here today," their father continued. "It's the only year each of us have a kid headed off to Hogwarts. Keep an eye out for everyone. I know George will be a wreck with Freddie leaving."

"Not the whole family," Dominique corrected. "Doesn't count when Uncle Charlie's not around."

Her father's expression seemed to say that was obvious. "Right, well not all of us. It'd be nice if Charlie turned up here—or anywhere, for that matter. It's been too bloody long."

She grinned. Her Uncle Charlie was one of her and her father's favorite people, though he lived in Romania training dragons and usually only turned up for a few days every several years to remind everyone he was still alive. He was cool, and funny, he'd been a Seeker, and never really cared what anyone thought of him. He would openly roll his eyes at her grandmother when she would ask him if he was ever going to settle down with someone nice and possibly have grandchildren. His answer of, "Don't you have plenty already?" always made Dominique laugh louder than it probably should have.

She'd always idolized him a bit, probably because her grandfather once told her and Louis how much they reminded him of a younger version of her father and his brother. Louis was the charismatic, clever one who always rose to the top; Dominique was the rebellious athlete who always marched to the beat of her own drummer. They were so very different, but so very close, just as the oldest Weasley boys had been. The similarities of the two had grown widespread throughout the family that it was still often brought up—only to be shut down by her father who would always quip, "As long as she doesn't run off like Charlie did. I'd like to see her more than once every few years."

It was also-and Dominique strongly believed this-this reason she felt her father was so tolerant of so much of her misconduct and antics. He didn't say it as much as the other Weasleys did, but she knew she reminded him of his brother—his best friend that he never got to see. She was certain he'd have never been as tolerant of some of the things she did or said had her uncle not broken him in over the course of their entire lives.

Louis had stopped outside the wall at Platform 9 ¾, gesturing for Dominique to go first. "Ladies first."

"Such a gentleman," she mumbled, rolling her eyes as she looked at the barrier that was separating her world from the Muggle world. She closed her eyes and passed through; the rest of King's Cross vanished behind her. She had no time to dawdle, knowing full well that Louis would be straight on her heels. She stepped forward and out of the way as the Hogwarts Express appeared along with the hundred or so people who were there to see it off. It suddenly hit her that this really was the absolute last time she had to do this.

"Is Sarah meeting you here?" their father asked after having walked through the barrier himself with Louis on his tail. He was glancing around at all the wizards and witches kissing foreheads, hugging goodbye, helping smaller students load their trunks onto the train.

"She is," Louis said, glancing up and down the platform. "She should be here somewhere."

"Hey, Louis," said a boy in Hufflepuff robes that Dominique didn't recognize. He had smiled and waved to her brother as he passed, and could be heard telling his parents, "He's the Head Boy. I saw the badge, but everyone already suspected." The group of them turned once more to get a good look at him.

"You know him?" their father asked.

"Don't think so," Louis said absently, barely paying attention to the passerbyers. He was busy now tapping his trunk with his wand and causing it to levitate.

"Louis is the type where you know him but he doesn't know you," Dominique joked, addressing her father. "Very popular, you see."

Her brother rolled his eyes as he pulled his trunk off the ground. "I'm starting to wish I didn't know you."

"Hey, Lou," their father said suddenly, pointing to Dominique's trunk, "Why don't you go put you and your sister's things on the train?"

"Is her wand broken?"

"Just be a gentleman and do it," he said with a pointed look, as if that was his final word on the matter. He turned to Dominique. "I want a word with your sister before you two leave."

Dominique shifted her weight awkwardly as Louis, begrudgingly, went to charm their trunks and her broom, pulling them both toward the train. Two more girls randomly passed him as he walked by and spoke shy-sounding hellos. One blushed absolutely scarlet once Louis smiled and said hello back, which her friend was now laughing at.

"Dominique," her father said, clearly looking for her undivided attention.

She sighed and looked at him, already knowing what he was going to say. She'd gotten this lecture every first day since her third year.

" _Be good_ ," she said, attempting to beat him to the punch. " _Please don't physically harm anyone. Don't curse anyone. Keep the detentions to a minimum. Work hard. No one expects you to be Louis or Victoire, but we do expect you to work as hard as you can. You're really quite clever if only you'd just focus_."

Her father stared at her. He looked torn between amusement and wondering whether or not he actually sounded like that.

"Also, probably something about how important N.E.W.T.s are," she added. "Please study for them. Don't piss them away."

"Nic, I love you."

"Oh, right. That too."

Her father reached out and pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "I love you for you. No one expects you to be Lou or Vic or anyone but you, I hope you know that."

Dominique returned the hug, taking in the smell of her dad's robes. It was an indescribable smell, but it was her father through and through. She did sometimes wish she could bottle it and take it out when she felt homesick.

"But seriously," he continued, "the whole not hurting or cursing people thing, that's sound advice."

She laughed into her father's chest.

"And with N.E.W.T.s, do your best. That's all anyone can do."

Dominique pulled back from her father. "I figure even if I do fail all of them, I'll make Louis give me a job when he becomes wealthy and successful."

He shook his head, but smiled and gave her arm one last reassuring squeeze. "Alright, where's Lou. I need to talk to him, too."

They both turned to scan the platform in the direction Louis had disappeared in, though after a few moments, Dominique found someone else in the crowd headed toward them. Sarah's familiar face appeared with her hair pulled up a ponytail; she was grinning excitedly at the sight of them—as if they hadn't seen each other ages instead of days.

"Hey!" she said brightly, smiling at both Dominique and her father. Dominique had to assume she was putting on this friendly face for the benefit of him since Sarah still hadn't had the chance to scold her about Henry yet. "Where's Louis?"

"Dropped out," Dominique said. "Couldn't take the pressure. Something about running away to see the world."

Louis reemerged from the crowd then, having dropped off all of their belongings. He snuck up behind Sarah and gave her a playful shake, which couldn't possibly have startled her, but she still feigned that it did. Dominique turned away to hide her eye roll.

"Hey," Louis said to her, leaning in to kiss her hello. It was a rather quick kiss, but he still let it linger seconds longer than Dominique would have ever had the courage to do in front of their father. The privilege of being the lone son.

"Lou," their father interrupted with a clearing of his throat. "A word. Real quick." He gestured with his head to follow him several yards away.

"Yeah, ok," Louis said, throwing Sarah a smile before turning to share a look of mutual understanding with his sister. The goodbye chat on the platform—more Weasley traditions.

"It's cute your dad still comes down here with you two," Sarah said, observing Louis. "My parents were thrilled to not have to make the trip this year."

"I guess. He likes to see his siblings since they're all here seeing their kids off." She coughed a bit. "If we're being honest, I can't believe I even have to take the train. I don't see anyone else from our year here."

"I saw Lira Chin down there," Sarah said, pointing at nothing in particular down the platform.

Lira Chin, a quiet, well-behaved, and exceptionally clever Ravenclaw girl who—while not a shoo-in for Head Girl—had definitely been a top contender. Her presence here meant she'd obviously been the one to get it, which meant she was only here because she had to be.

"Alright, let me rephrase," Dominique said, "I don't see anyone else from our year who _isn't_ a school Head, sleeping with one of them, or related to them." She continued to look up and down the platform aimlessly, wondering then whether Jack—her brother's best friend and the source of many of her daydreams and dirty thoughts recently—was coming. In her haste to avoid her brother and Sarah lately, she hadn't bothered to ask about him.

She and Jack Ians hadn't spoken since the last day of the Quidditch Trials—after her secret crush ended up becoming not so secret. She had discovered that he'd found out about her feelings for him and she was now doing everything in her power to hide that. It had been easy to do when he wasn't around—especially with Henry as a distraction—but she'd have to see him at school now. They lived in the same house, they shared the exact same group of friends, and they played Quidditch together.

They'd left things a little weird, but she had full faith that once everything got ignored and swept back under the rug where it belonged, things would go back to normal. It didn't change the fact that she was still incredibly anxious to see him.

"Are we waiting on anyone else?" Dominique asked, attempting to sound nonchalant. "Or is it just us? Have you talked to some of..." she paused, "...the other people."

Sarah threw her a very particular look. "The other people?"

"You know," she said. "Other friends of ours. People who may also want to see Louis' special train compartment."

Sarah continued to stare at her. Dominique knew bloody well that she was aware of exactly what she was trying to say, but she apparently wasn't going to let her have it that easily. "Are you talking about someone in particular?"

"I mean..." She shrugged, watching as Sarah now smirked at her. Fuck. She was going to make her say it. "I don't know, Jack?"

"Ahhh," she said, faking surprise. "Jack. Right. Forgot about him." Her expression turned a bit sour. "You too, it seems."

"I literally just asked about him."

"That isn't what I meant," she said a little cooly, now watching as Louis finished up his chat with their father. "No, Jack's not coming. He's Apparating. You'll see him at school." She smiled at Louis once he returned and slunk his arm around her.

"Why?" Dominique asked, feeling oddly deflated all of the sudden.

"Ask me again in a few minutes," Sarah said, smiling at their father, who was now wishing her a good term. There was a final round of goodbyes with him, where he once again told them he loved them and wished them luck. Hugs were given once more and in a hurried sort of way, and a few more "be goods" and "I love yous," before the three of them started walking across the platform, passing all the parents that were also doing their final goodbyes.

"Why did he decide to Apparate?" Dominique asked again, now climbing the stairs up to the train behind Sarah. "He'd mentioned to me over the summer he'd come."

"He changed his mind," Sarah said, following Louis down the train's corridor toward the front. "He didn't say one way or the other, but I have a feeling it had to do with you."

Dominique didn't reply to that. Her? What? Was she serious? How true could that possibly be? She had to be acting overdramatic.

"Did Louis tell you what Jack did when he found out you and Davies were back together?"

"We're not really back together," Dominique said. "Not as you all seem to think. I mean, we are, but we're not—"

"Ok, whatever the fuck it is," Sarah interrupted, though she was keeping her voice low. Dominique had to presume it was because of Louis, not that it mattered. He was now playing the Minister of Magic game where he had to greet each and every person who stopped to say hello to him in the corridor.

She let her tone drop to a low volume as well. "No, Louis didn't tell me. What did he do?"

"He threw a full glass beer bottle straight into that big brick wall in the back of Flynn's garden," Sarah said, turning her gaze entirely onto Dominique as she continued to walk. "It was two nights ago. Louis showed up at Flynn's and told everyone, and even though I knew you two had spoken, I had hoped you'd…" She trailed off. "Anyway, while I just started swearing at you, Jack apparently throws things."

Dominique let her eyes stay focused on the runway beneath her feet, her thoughts now all over the place. "He was angry?"

"We're all angry!" Sarah said as they reached the front of the train. "But after what I'd heard happened at the Trials, a part of me thinks he had a little extra reason to be angry." She swung around on her. "What the hell are you thinking? Why did you let him back?"

"Check this out," Louis said, having already entered the Head Boy compartment and now investigating the collection of sweets and benefits it provided. "Nic, they've even got black licorice wands. You can eat all of them. No one's going to fight you for them. Oooh, but I get all the peppermint imps."

Sarah was still staring at Dominique, who suddenly wished she was anywhere else than where she was. Was this really how the next eight hours were going to be? She had expected some questions, but not an anger fueled inquisition. Why were she and Louis so convinced they were perfect? What right did they have to criticize her choices?

"Hey, Sar," Louis said, turning around with a bag of candy. "It's your favorite—" He stopped when he noticed the stare down between the girls. "What's happened?"

"I'm not doing this," Dominique said. "I'm not sitting in a train compartment with the two of you all day so that you can judge me and give me shit because you think I can't make my own decisions."

"Nic," said Louis as the adjacent compartment's door—the one belonging to the Head Girl—opened. Out popped the blue-black hair of Lira Chin. She seemed to have been waiting for Louis to arrive.

"Hey, Louis," she said brightly, "Congratulations on becoming Head Boy!"

"Yeah. Thanks. You too," he said, still watching his sister. "Nic, no one thinks you can't. We just don't understand why."

"And I would love to know why," Sarah interrupted. "You know Davies is just—"

"I'm not doing this," Dominique repeated, now turning and brushing past a very confused looking Lira. She heard Louis call after her; ask where she was going, but she ignored him and immediately rushed back down the train's corridor.

A loud whistle and the sound of steam now billowing from outside filled her ears as she made it to the door and managed to slip herself off the train and onto the solid platform. No one even seemed to notice. Parents were busy waving off their children; children were hanging out the windows doing the same in return.

She'd wondered if any of her family had seen her, seeing as they were all here, but she didn't hear anyone call her name or otherwise try to get her attention. As she moved against the sea of people, the sound of the train departing and the wheels turning made her stop and look back. The Hogwarts Express heaved itself forward, pulling out of the station with the calls of 'goodbyes' and 'I love yous' following after. She wasn't on board for the first time in her school career.

She quickly picked up her pace and disappeared back through the barrier wall and back into the Muggle part of the station. As she walked, she realized that she just had to find somewhere to go for the next...eight hours.

Shit. That was a long time when you had nothing to do and nowhere to go. Going home was an option, but there was a chance her parents were still there and then she'd have to explain to them why she wasn't on the train as she was supposed to be. Henry and Victoire wouldn't be around. She could go and wander around Diagon Alley, but she didn't have much money on her, having packed everything away in her trunk. She could go to Hogsmeade and wait things out there, but again, she didn't have much money on her. Maybe she could go and kill time at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, but there wasn't even a guarantee her uncle or aunt would be there today. They clearly had just been here seeing Freddie off on the train.

She sighed, glancing around the busy train station at the Muggles going about their business. It seemed she had some time to kill.


	3. Trunk Stack

With a couple hours left before the train was due to arrive at Hogsmeade station, Dominique finally Apparated into the village of Hogsmeade. She was hungry, tired, a little damp from having been caught in the rain, and more than anything—she was bored. She'd spent a great portion of her day wandering from shop to shop in Diagon Alley, reading every magazine available in the bookstore—including Wand Care Monthly—from cover to cover until she'd been kicked out for not buying anything. She'd perused the Quidditch shop for a while, where she reread some of the magazines from earlier, before moving on to her uncle's store. Luckily for her, the woman behind the counter recognized her and didn't seem to mind her sticking around to wait out the rain. She'd hoped her Uncle George would turn up seeing as he was always good for a laugh, but the woman informed her he'd taken the day off.

Now that she was in Hogsmeade, she knew everyone in her year would be at the Three Broomsticks. It had become a seventh year tradition—affectionately known as Trunk Stack—to meet there before the Sorting if you didn't take the train. Dominique wasn't sure if she was early or late, or what exactly she was going to do considering she still had little money, but at least she'd find people she knew there.

After walking the familiar path through town toward the Three Broomstick, she found out exactly why it had been dubbed Trunk Stack when she saw the large pile of trunks that were sitting and stacked up outside of the pub. There were at least twenty so far, all making a pyramid sort of structure that looked as if it would soon obstruct the front window.

"Nicki," said a voice from behind, startling her a bit. She had been so taken by the stack of trunks that she hadn't noticed Natalie Young, one of her roommates, appear beside her. It seemed she had just arrived as well, given she was still holding her trunk.

She must have been desperate for a familiar face because even Natalie was a welcome sight. It wasn't a secret she and Natalie had never been friends. The two really couldn't have been more opposite if they tried. Natalie was exceptionally prim, posh, and girly; always put together, always well dressed, couldn't be seen without a facefull of makeup, couldn't handle dirt on her hands. She'd been more boy crazy than any person Dominique had ever met, which as young teenagers had driven her absolutely mad.

Listening to her drone on and on about every single boy who ever talked to her, and then giggling with Sarah and their other roommate, Eleanor, about it all; Dominique had wanted to throttle her from the start. She was vapid and annoying and didn't particularly care about school outside of Divination class. It had only ever been boys and friends and being popular—which had bitten her right in the arse a few years back when she got mixed up with the wrong people.

She'd never hidden the fact that she didn't like Natalie. Natalie had been the target of many of her scathing comments over the years, but the one thing that Natalie always had on her side was Sarah, who had kept the peace in their room. The two had been close for years; Dominique suspected it had to do with Natalie providing Sarah the giggly, silly, girls' night outlet that Dominique never could.

But then last year happened and everything changed.

Natalie had also dated Louis. It ended horribly, with her dumping him because some popular girls manipulated her into doing; all on the promise of being their friend. It hadn't made any sense to anyone, and Natalie clearly hadn't thought things out because those girls never wanted to know her. She'd gone and lost Louis, whom she'd been madly in love with for ages, and there was no fixing that from Louis' perspective. She'd always hoped to mend things, but that came crashing to a halt when Sarah got with him. If Dominique had been angry about her brother and her best friend, it had been nothing compared to Natalie's reaction.

The fight she and Sarah had in their dorm room had been epic, with Natalie accusing Sarah of betraying her and Sarah accusing Natalie of discarding Louis like rubbish in the first place. Dominique had watched the entire thing and never seen Natalie so upset. She'd never seen Sarah so full of fire. Their friendship ended that day and they now didn't speak. Sarah would retreat to Louis and Dominique, while Natalie retreated to Eleanor and a gaggle of Ravenclaw girls that had become her friends.

But it had changed Natalie. She was quieter now and kept to herself. She seemed different. Dominique had actually felt a bit of camaraderie with Natalie after the whole Louis and Sarah thing came to light, though she never told her that. She instead took it easy on her and stopped giving her grief for the stupid, giggly things. Because, as it were, without Sarah to share it with, Natalie had mostly given up on all of that stuff—at least, she'd stopped talking about it when Dominique was around.

"Hey," Dominique said, giving Natalie a nod. "How's it going?"

Natalie smiled a little. "Well, thanks. You? Good summer?"

She nodded a little, watching as Natalie stepped forward with her trunk to add it to the pile. "It was eventful. Yours?"

"Boring," she said. "Didn't do much." She paused and gave Dominique a tentative once over. "I'd have thought you'd have been on the train. Louis had to have gotten Head Boy."

"He did. I just...I didn't want to take the train."

Natalie's expression seemed to sympathize with that. She looked the same, but also different. Her makeup and hair was done and her robes were perfectly pressed as usual, but there was something about her face that had changed. She almost looked as if she'd gained a bit of weight, but in a good way. She's always been quite skinny and the extra stone suited her.

"Lira invited me to come with her," Natalie said, reminding her that Lira was part of her group of friends these days. "She got Head Girl, if you didn't know. Eleanor went with her. So did Marlowe and Kiera. But, like you, I'd rather not take the train if I don't have to." She shrugged. "But that also means that everyone is on the train and I'm here on my own."

"That makes two of us," Dominique said, though it had sounded more sad than she'd meant it to. This year was already starting off strangely if she was currently getting along better with Natalie than Sarah or Louis.

Natalie gestured to the pub. "You were going in, right?"

"Obviously," Dominique said, though only then did she realize that she hadn't thought that far ahead yet. She went for the door and heard the tinkling sound of a bell follow as she entered, holding it open for Natalie to grab.

Inside, it was the same boisterous pub she'd known since she was thirteen. Not a single detail ever changed, though everyone she knew inside kept getting older. The place was packed with seventh-years and regular patrons alike, all of them mostly mingling around each other in their own separate worlds.

At a table closest to the door, she first noticed a collection of Slytherins all sitting and heavily engaged in their own conversation. Across the room, two tables of Hufflepuffs had been pushed together—the boys all chatting at one end while the girls were on the other.

Several of the Ravenclaw boys—including the ones that made her skin crawl, like Griffin Giggleswick—were just beside them, reaching over to tap the Hufflepuffs on the back as if engaging them into their large conversation. It was clearly a nice little reunion for all, despite the fact that Dominique knew that most of them had seen each other over the summer. She'd seen half of them over at Flynn's house at some point.

Speaking of Flynn, he was over mixed into that group as well, the lone Gryffindor in a sea of other houses. As annoying as Flynn could be, he did have that everyman quality about him that let him blend into everyone else's social circles. He'd make himself at home wherever he went and always found a friend by the day's end.

"There's Flynn," Natalie said, as if reading Dominique's mind. "I'd have assumed he'd taken the train."

"No, it was just Louis and Sarah on the train."

"Oh," Natalie said, her eyes still watching that busy corner of the room. "Wait, not Jack, either?"

Dominique shook her head. Even hearing his name gave her a bit of a jolt. "No. I don't know where Jack—"

It was as if she'd used a summoning charm by speaking his name. He had appeared from the direction of the toilets and was now crossing the room toward Flynn and the others. Her breath caught in her chest as she watched him; him completely unaware that she was now watching his every move.

Yes, it had really only been a week since she'd last seen him—which was obviously no time at all. She couldn't even claim he looked different—because he didn't—but at that moment he looked so impossibly handsome that she felt a little dumbfounded. The way his hair naturally fell on his head, the way his clothes sat on his body, the way the muscles in his face moved—it was as if it was the first time she'd bothered to notice any of it. She wanted to talk to him, but she also could not bear to see the disappointment in his face after what Sarah had told her. She wasn't ready for it yet.

"Are you going to go and say hello?" Natalie asked, though Dominique was still watching Jack. He'd gone and sat next to Flynn; his line of sight falling naturally in her direction if he so much as looked straight ahead. It was only a matter of time before he did and saw her, so she either had to move or—

He'd glanced over in a casual way, which caused her to instinctively take the first seat she saw. It just so happened to be right smack dab in the middle of the Slytherin group. They were all now staring at her.

"Lost, Weasley?" asked Reggie Avery, who she was now sitting directly beside. On her other side, Erin Tanner and Zara Zabini were staring at her as well.

She and the two of them had become sort of friendly over the course of the Quidditch Trials. They were the ones who were unapologetically responsible for telling Jack about her feelings for him—so she didn't feel completely out of place having plopped down. At the same time, she'd rarely had much to do with any of the Slytherins outside of a few classroom assignments, so their confusion was justified.

"I…" Dominique shook her head. "Just felt like a quick sit. Bit lightheaded. Long day."

Erin gave her a funny look before her gaze traveled up to Natalie, who was now looking concerned at Dominique's condition. She offered to go and get her some water, and when Dominique took her up on it, she soon disappeared through the crowd toward the bar.

"Thought you'd be on the train with Louis," Zara said.

Dominique shook her head. She was fairly convinced that Jack hadn't seen her and that she was in the clear. Still, she should probably take a few more minutes to be sure. Not that it mattered. She would have to see him by the end of the day's end.

"How is Louis?" asked Diane Cawley, a red-headed girl with razor sharp features who generally tagged along with Zara and Erin. "He and Sarah still together?"

"Yes."

Diane's look of disappointment was fleeting, though evidently caught by Reggie and his friend Nicholas Coulson, who were now taking the piss at her for it. Zara was attempting to get them to knock it off as Natalie returned in a flash with a glass of water in one hand and a butterbeer in the other. Dominique took the water, not actually wanting it, but thanked her nonetheless.

Erin was watching her as she took a small sip. "You do know your boyfriend's over there, right? In the back."

Dominique's gaze turned cold, though before she could retort, Reggie had asked the obvious question. "Davies is here?" He turned back to Dominique. "You two are still together?"

"No, they split—"

"We're sort of...back together," Dominique said. "Sort of."

Zara's face went through multiple expressions all at once; Erin, who had been sipping on her butterbeer, actually had a physical reaction that caused her to spill it down the front of her uniform. She looked down and swore loudly at herself before glancing back up at Dominique. "You're serious?"

"What about…?" Zara began to ask, her eyes travelling across to where she was clearly attempting to get a look at Jack. Both Reggie, Diane, and Nicholas followed her gaze to see what she was looking at, but it would have been impossible for them to pinpoint with the tens of other people standing in the way.

"What about it?" Dominique asked. "Everything's the same as it was."

"Well, shit," Erin said rather blankly. "Had a chance to take out the rubbish and upgrade, but…" she sighed, "some people love rubbish, I suppose." Zara was nodding.

Dominique gulped down the last of her water before standing abruptly. If she was going to get shit for Henry, it was going to be from the people she actually cared about—not the randoms. "Head's feeling better now. Thanks for the chair." With that she turned and headed straight up to the bar. She probably had just enough money in her pocket for a single butterbeer and could stretch that into an hour or so if she drank slowly.

Natalie had followed her, and Dominique figured out that she hadn't been kidding when she said everyone she talked to was on the train. She was the only other person in this pub that Natalie talked to on a regular basis, with Flynn and Jack coming in at a very, very, very distant second.

Dominique took a seat at the end of the bar and Natalie joined her without being invited. She didn't mind. It had to be better for her to sit here with someone—anyone—rather than looking like a nutter all alone in a room full of people she'd spent the last six years growing up with.

They made idle chit chat while she waited for the barmaid, though not much was said between the two of them. They did comment that the pub never seemed to change and how Rosemerta—the pub's owner who was currently engaging a group of regulars at the other end—must have a wonderful skin care potion because she also never seemed to age. It was very dull and rather pointless, but it was still better than being alone.

Dominique kept chancing glances over toward the group near the back. It wasn't until she noticed Flynn standing and looking up toward the bar that she'd realized she'd let her gaze linger a bit too long. He'd seen her; a curious grin spread across his face as he began walking over. He was already speaking before he was even within arm's length of her. "Thought you'd be on the train."

She really should wear a sign, she thought, knowing already that this would not be the last time she'd have to answer that question. "Do you want to spend half the day cooped up in a compartment with Louis and Sarah?"

Flynn's smirk said that he could understand that before he glanced over at Natalie. He nodded a polite hello, though was obviously surprised when she enthusiastically responded. "Hey, Flynn! Good summer?"

Even Dominique had to stop and stare at her. Flynn had been a non-entity to her for years. He had been lucky to even get an eye roll out of her in the past and now she was greeting him like an old friend?

She'd barely acknowledged his or Jack's existence since they hadn't been the sort who would lead her toward her ultimate goal of having the best and coolest friends. They'd been, at best, Louis' friends and nothing more. It had clearly come back to bite her now given that Flynn was friendly with almost everyone in their year, while Jack had become a well-liked Quidditch captain.

"Uh, yeah," Flynn said, his smile becoming more genuine. "Great, actually."

That was the thing with Flynn—he held no grudges and would be friends with anyone who was willing. This even applied to people who had wanted nothing to do with him in the past. It had applied to Dominique, who'd never been particularly tolerant of his dumb humor or antics. When she had started coming around more this summer with her brother and friends, Flynn acted as if everything had always been cool between them. It seemed Natalie was now getting the same treatment.

"My summer was so boring," Natalie said, sighing a bit as she said it. "Happy it's over if we're being honest."

"Not me," Flynn said. "Mine could have kept on for longer. I had people over almost every night and it always turned into a bit of a knees-up. We had a lot of fun, didn't we Nicki?"

"Sure," Dominique said, feeling it was better to agree than not. It wasn't that she hadn't had some fun times at his house over the summer, it was that she'd been ready for it to be over. She didn't want to keep doing the same old drunken antics over and over again.

"In fact," Flynn continued, still smiling at Natalie. "I've got this funny story from back in July you've got to hear. Sums up my summer perfectly. Shall I tell it?"

Natalie nodded enthusiastically, while Dominique robotically shook her head. Unfortunately for her, Flynn's focus was now entirely on Natalie, so he didn't even bother to notice. He was actually standing up a bit taller. "Right, so—and Nicki, I dunno if you were there that night and saw—but me, my brother and his friend, Art Diggle…"

Dominique could practically feel her eyes glaze over at having to listen to Flynn tell this story for the tenth time since it happened. It wasn't even interesting; an anecdote about them jumping off a roof and not killing themselves. But Flynn was a show off—especially with girls—and he now had an oddly captive audience in Natalie. There was no escaping it.

"Something to drink?" asked the barmaid, who finally acknowledged her.

"Are you serving alcohol?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not to school kids, no. Butterbeer?"

"Strongest one you've got."

"Hey, can I get one, too," Flynn asked, breaking from his story for a second now that they actually had her attention. He suddenly turned around and called back behind him. "Oi! Jack!"

Dominique froze, just as the barmaid set her drink down in front of her and told her it would be a Sickle. She attempted to fumble in her pocket for it, all while trying to observe what Flynn was doing—while at the same time, pretended she wasn't paying attention.

"Did you want another one?" he was shouting across the bar. He turned back to speak to the barmaid. "Yeah, sorry can I get two?" He held up two fingers before turning back to Natalie. "So, Art reckons he can jump off the roof…"

Dominique placed her Sickle down on the bar and immediately grabbed her drink to sip for lack of anything better to do. She knew Jack had to have known she was here now; she was literally beside Flynn. She might as well prepare herself mentally. This would have been so much easier with a real drink and not a Butterbeer.

"Hey, you know we're sitting over there?" Flynn said, either having finished his story or getting distracted again while telling it. The barmaid had placed two Butterbeers in front of him and he was pointing to where Dominique was well aware they were sitting. Natalie had immediately followed his finger, and Dominique slowly—begrudgingly—did the same. "See, just over there. Jack's here, too."

"Yeah, I see him," Natalie said, her watchful eye now taking him in. She seemed pleasantly surprised. "Wow, he looks great. He's clearly had a good holiday."

Dominique rounded back on her; she and Flynn both pulled similar faces as to why that comment had to be made. She knew Natalie well enough that if she was commenting on someone's appearance—especially in a positive way—there was a reason. She was never subtle. Dominique wasn't sure why Flynn reacted, though it was him who mumbled, "He looks like he always does."

"How does one look like they had a good holiday?" Dominique asked, her tone clipped.

Natalie shrugged. "He just does. He looks like he's been taking care of himself, is all." She looked back at Flynn and smiled again. "You too. The summer was good for you."

Again, Natalie never made these comments innocently. But that was all it took to get Flynn grinning again. He was ridiculous. The most basic of compliment from a girl—and had that actually been a compliment? It had been more of an afterthought to someone else's compliment—turned him into putty. It was pathetic, really.

Natalie was back to annoying her again. It felt like yesterday—though more than likely it was three or four years ago—that Flynn had been rated a three on Natalie's "Fit Boys" list. Jack had been a five—where in contrast, Louis had been a nine and the only boy in their year to score over six. She'd given plenty of reasons as to why neither of them were ever her type, and yet now, here she was hanging off every stupid word Flynn spoke and mentally undressing Jack from her seat.

"Anyway," Flynn said, picking up his butterbeers and gesturing across the room. "Come on, then. Come join us."

Natalie was already up before he'd even finished his sentence; Dominique knew she had absolutely no believable reason to say no. It was time to face the music. Her emotions were a mixture of dread and butterflies, both of which were currently fighting an epic battle inside of her stomach. She needed to treat this like a bandage and rip it off.

Flynn led the way, carefully avoiding the people who were standing in his path to avoid spilling his drinks. Natalie had followed behind him and Dominique slunk behind several paces as she stared into the foamy head of her butterbeer. When she did look up, she saw Flynn had set the drinks down on the table and was now looking around for extra chairs. Jack had stood to help him—both of them grabbing a nearby table and pulling it closer. Flynn turned around to smile at both girls, offering them their choice of chairs first.

Natalie stepped forward to grab the closest. Dominique barely noticed since at that moment, Jack had caught her eye. He was standing like Flynn, waiting for the girls to sit. If he'd been avoiding eye contact with her as much as she'd been trying to avoid it with him, he'd lost as quickly as she had. His face was blank and unreadable; his body language was tight and rigid. He wasn't saying anything, not even a hello, but then again, neither was she. They apparently were just going to stare awkwardly at each other for the time being.

Flynn had immediately taken the seat next to Natalie. He was the one who seemed to realize the natural progression of everyone taking their seats wasn't happening as it should, and turned to Dominique. "Are you sitting or standing?" He looked back at Jack. "Why is everyone still standing?"

Jack took the seat in front of him, leaving only the chair sandwiched in between him and Flynn left to take. Dominique sighed as she went and pulled it out, lowering herself rather slowly down into it. For once in her life, she was happy for Natalie's voice to cut through the lull.

"Hi, Jack," she said, her tone still bouncy and light—as if they were all the best of friends and had been for ages.

"Hey, Natalie," he said politely. "How's it going?"

She smiled and again recalled once again how boring her summer had been and how happy she was to be back to school and around everyone. This only prompted Flynn to once again talk about how amazing his and Jack's summer had been since they'd spent almost all of it at his house.

"It sounds like so much fun," said Natalie, not even attempting to hide the envy in her voice. She seemed a bit jealous for having missed out, but that was to be expected when Flynn would not stop describing it as the best summer ever and name dropping everyone and anyone who had turned up. "I'd have loved to come."

"Yeah, why didn't you?" Flynn asked, looking over at Dominique and Jack. "I feel we should have invited her. Why didn't we?"

Dominique rolled her eyes, watching as Natalie's face turned awkward. It was very obvious why she'd never come or been invited; if Flynn didn't realize that straight away, then he was a bigger idiot than she'd realized. Apparently, no one else was going to tell him, even though he was staring blankly from person to person.

She sighed. "Because she and Sarah don't get along."

Natalie nodded a little, looking happy to not have been the one to say it. Flynn seemed to remember that now, whispering, "Ohhhhh, right," under his breath. "Right." He sat up straighter. "But fuck that, it's not Sarah's house. It's mine."

"I mean, Sarah practically lives there," Jack said.

"Sarah lives four doors down," Flynn corrected. "And yeah, she's over a lot, but she doesn't have a say as to who comes over." He looked at Natalie. "She doesn't like it, she can leave. Go to her house. You're always welcome."

Natalie smiled a little, though didn't seem entirely convinced. Both Dominique and Jack were making doubtful faces, but said nothing. Dominique didn't want to be there to see that run in if Natalie showed up in Sarah's neighborhood, to one of her spots, where she and her friends gathered—all because Flynn wanted to flirt. Flynn also didn't seem to realize that if Sarah left, so did Louis. And if both Sarah and Louis left, there she went as well. Jack may split his time, but he'd be there far less than he normally was.

"I'm serious," Flynn continued, talking to Natalie. "I'm in Godric's Hollow. You've been, right? Probably back when you and Sarah were still friends..."

Dominique picked up her butterbeer and took a large gulp, chancing a look at Jack as she did. He was swigging from his own butterbeer and aimlessly glancing around the pub, but once again their eyes met as they both set their glasses down at the same time. There wasn't any avoiding it this time.

"Hey."

"Hey." She forced a tepid smile. She wished more than anything she could read his mind. He didn't seem angry, but that didn't mean he wasn't. He was being awkward and clearly distant, but she'd expected that. It felt as if he were gauging her reaction to him as much as she was gauging his to her. This clearly wasn't their usual rapport, but he'd spoken to her without malice. That was good.

Flynn had apparently said something very funny because now Natalie was laughing loudly. It had been so startling that both she and Jack turned back to see what all the fuss was about. Flynn was laughing a bit too, looking rather proud at having made her react as she had. Dominique watched as Natalie very casually placed her hand on Flynn's arm for a moment. It had been brief, but completely obvious.

"If you like that one," Flynn said, clearly only getting started now that he was the center of her attention, "let's try this one. So a wizard, a goblin, and a house elf..."

Dominique felt a nudge beside her. Jack had elbowed her in the side. When she glanced over at him, he nodded across the table. He seemed to be silently asking what the hell was happening there. He evidently saw it, too.

"I'm going to pretend it's not what I think," she said.

He hummed. "I find myself doing that a lot lately."

There it was. That had been a deliberate comment. She wanted to talk to him, to say something, to defend herself—though she wasn't even sure what her defense was. She didn't know what to say, but she wanted to say it. She wanted to say something.

Jack picked up his butterbeer and took a sip again. It left a foam mustache that he immediately brushed away. "Thought you'd take the train."

"Thought you'd take the train."

"And miss this?" he joked, sounding bored and gesturing around the room. "Why'd you skip it?"

"The train?" She shrugged. "I don't know. Realized it would just be me, Louis, and Sarah for a few hours and wasn't in the mood to deal with them on my own. They've been annoying me lately."

Jack smiled a little. That smile. Why was it now doing things to her? That smile had years to make an impact on her and yet she chose now to marvel at it. She hoped it wasn't her imagination, but the awkwardness did feel as if it thawed slightly between them. That smile had to have meant something. It felt more like normal.

"Oh, right," said Natalie, now addressing the two of them. "How did that Quidditch thing go? Did you two do well?"

"Jack fucking killed it," Flynn said, answering for him. "He got a nine, which is practically the best score you can get. Played in the Premier match and everything."

"Ten's the best score you can get," Jack said. "But yeah, I did alright."

"So, bloody modest," Flynn said to Natalie. "Remember that face because he's going professional one day."

"Really?" Natalie asked, looking more than intrigued. Dominique wanted to tell Flynn that if he was attempting to flirt with Natalie and her social climbing tendencies, perhaps he shouldn't be sitting here hyping Jack up. He was already more attractive and just a better person all-around than Flynn was, but if he was dumb enough to do it then he deserved what he got.

"Here's hoping," Jack said with a shrug. "Still have a lot of work to do. But Nic got a seven and that's really impressive as well."

"But it's not a nine," she said, stating the obvious as she started examining the rafters up above.

"Not everything has to be a nine to be impressive," he said.

"Says the one with the nine."

"It sounds as if you both did amazing," Natalie said. "That's fantastic. Congratulations."

Dominique looked back down and let her expression silently thank her while Jack actually said, "Thanks". She was ready for these rankings to be a thing of the past and have everything go back to when they were both on equal footing on the Quidditch pitch. But she knew that would probably never happen.

"So, Nicki," Natalie said. "Did I hear correctly earlier when you were talking to the Slytherins that you and Davies split up and got back together? What happened?"

Fucking fuck. She hated her so much at that moment. Everything was now suddenly moving slower. She didn't dare look at Jack, but she could see Flynn. For the first time since they'd all sat down, he now finally seemed to be sensing some awkwardness at the table as he let his gaze rest directly on Jack.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said, feeling the need to remind Natalie that they weren't those types of friends. She barely talked to her actual friends about this; she certainly wasn't going there with her.

"Oh...ok," Natalie said, reaching for her drink out of reflex. She set her sights on Jack. "How about you? Weren't you and Kenley—?"

"Nope," he said quickly. "That was just a snog at a party. Nothing serious."

"And then Whit started yelling at him," Flynn said with a laugh. "Which was hilarious."

"Glad you thought so," he muttered.

"Shame nothing came from that," Flynn continued, "because she's cute. But no worries, mate, because this year, after your score from that Quidditch thing, girls will be all over you. You're going to be swimming in it."

Dominique found her forehead wrinkled involuntarily, just as Jack asked, "Swimming in what?"

Flynn lowered his voice slightly, throwing Jack a look. "You know. P-u-s-."

Jack stopped him rather abruptly. "I get it. But why are you spelling it?"

"Are you under the impression we can't spell, Flynn?" Dominique asked, making a face.

"Whatever," Flynn said, waving them both off. "All I'm saying is that it's better to start the year on a clean slate because you'll have more opportunities. Girls are into seventh-year blokes."

"No, they're not," Dominique countered. "The exact same girls who didn't want you as a sixth-year, don't want you as a seventh-year."

"You never know," he said as he casually glanced over to Natalie.

"Touché," she thought as she suddenly felt Jack straighten up beside her. He was checking his watch as, all around the pub, the sound of chairs scraping across the floor carried over. The Slytherins were all standing and the Hufflepuffs had begun to stand as well.

"Train should be getting in," Jack said, pushing his own chair out. "Probably should get a move on since we have to walk up to the castle."

They all drained their drinks and followed suit, shuffling their chairs around and standing. Flynn made a point to grab Natalie's chair and pull it out for her, which she seemed to be amused by. She said a quick, "How sweet. Thank you."

"Yeah, what a sweetheart," Jack muttered, throwing Flynn a wide-eyed look the second he noticed Natalie's attention was now on straightening her skirt out. Dominique could just make out him silently mouthing, "What is this?" to Flynn.

"Lay off," Flynn muttered. "And why not? You're really one to—" He stopped abruptly when he saw Dominique was listening to him. He blinked and flashed her a quick smile before saying nothing else and following the rest of the crowd out the door and toward the massive collection of trunks.

Dominique stood back and observed, seeing as her things were arriving with the train. Jack emerged from the group first, while Flynn and Natalie seemed to still be lost inside the shuffle.

"Where's yours?" he asked her, noticing she didn't have anything.

"Not in that mess," she said, though before he could press her for more information she added, "You were quick."

"I left mine toward the outside on purpose," he said, charming his trunk to levitate as he glanced back at the crowd. They watched as people who'd retrieved their trunks were now walking up the path toward Hogwarts in pairs and small groups. For the briefest of seconds, she and Griffin Giggleswick made eye contact, but she was in no mood for his bullshit and looked away.

"Hey, Weasley," said Ellibit Collins, who, along with her boyfriend, Mike, and her friends, Calista and Daphne, passed with their trunks. "Thought you'd be on the train. Didn't your brother make Head Boy?"

"Yup," she said, though she didn't elaborate further and instead let her attention fall back on the madness that was trunk retrieval.

Ellibit didn't say anything else, but her friend Daphne casually added, "Hey, Jack. Heard you did really well at the Trials. That's amazing. Congratulations."

Dominique turned back at that. Daphne was smiling very particularly as she lagged behind her friends, while Jack politely called back. "Thanks."

Ellibit grabbed her friend by her robe sleeve, whispering something to her as they both cast a glance back at them. They were off in the next moment, and Dominique had to remind herself she wasn't allowed to be annoyed. Not that it stopped her.

It had taken a few more minutes, but soon enough Flynn and Natalie had emerged from what was left of the crowd. He was now pulling two trunks behind him, while Natalie was walking at his side.

"If you'd have ever told me that those two would even entertain the idea of each other..." she mumbled to Jack.

"I don't even know where that came from," Jack said as they both approached, a goofy smile on Flynn's face.

"Mine was at the bottom," he said, sounding completely out of breath. "Then I had to fetch hers."

Dominique wanted to remind him he was a wizard and it wasn't necessary for him to physically pull the trunk behind him like he had, but she instead chose to remain quiet. If anything had made her miss her brother and Sarah, it was an afternoon spent with Natalie and Flynn.

"No trunk, Nicki?" asked Flynn.

"It's on the train."

"Why would it be on the train?"

Shit. That had just come out. Now there would be follow up questions.

"Wait, you went down to King's Cross? And you still didn't take the train?"

Dominique hesitated for a moment, but soon realized she owned none of these people a proper explanation, "Something like that."

"But-?"

"Flynn, mind your own business."

He did just that; not asking any further questions and instead began to share more dumb stories from over the summer. She'd noticed that every one of them made him seem cooler or more interesting than any of the memories she recalled, but if he really wanted to blow smoke up Natalie's arse to impress her, who was she to judge? As weird as they were, maybe they'd make sense together. Maybe they'd at least get a bit of action out of it.

They'd caught up to most of the others who were walking up to school, including the group of Ravenclaw boys that Dominique hadn't noticed until it was too late. Someone must have said something, because Giggleswick suddenly looked over his shoulder and immediately took notice of her. He leaned into his friend and said something before he then swung around to face her. He proceeded to continue walking backwards.

"Weasley," he shouted. "Don't expect me to play nice again just because you and my boy Davies are back together. There'll be none of this fake nice shit this time."

Fake nice? When the hell was he ever anything close to being fake nice? He'd always been a prick even the first go around with Henry. She flipped him off and said, "Fuck off, Giggleswick," already tallying in her head her first 'fuck off' of the new school year.

Giggleswick laughed as he returned to his friends; he had turned back around and seemed over shouting for the moment. She'd get him back later, she always did. She wasn't in the mood right now and instead let her pace slow slightly in order to put more space between them and her. She soon found Natalie right beside her.

"I know you said you didn't want to talk about it, but I think it's great you and Henry are still getting on well."

"'Well' is not a word I would use. We're getting on."

"You two seem—"

She shot her a silencing look, which Natalie picked up straight away. She sped up then to ask Flynn a question about what he thought pudding would be that evening.

Dominique slowed even more, hoping to somehow position herself far enough away from Natalie's questions and also Giggleswick's entire being. She felt she'd managed the proper distance between the two when she noticed Jack had stopped walking entirely in front of her.

He didn't say anything once she reached him, though he was clearly waiting for her. They walked in silence for a bit, which was both the most nerve-racking and most comforting thing she could ask for. The pack of people in front of them was getting further and further away with every step; even Natalie and Flynn a good ten yards away by now.

"Why?" Jack said all of the sudden, breaking the silence rather abruptly.

She knew what he meant. She knew exactly what every part of that 'Why?' was asking. It was probably the most loaded word she'd ever heard in her life and, worst of all, she had no real answer to give him. Instead, she played dumb. "Why?"

"Why are you back with Davies?"

She didn't look at him. She felt like her legs would crumble beneath the weight of all of this baggage if she looked at him. "It's complicated."

"You say that about everything."

"No, I—"

"Your breakup was complicated," he continued. "Getting back together is complicated, every feeling you seem to have about him—" He took a deep breath, as if forcing himself to stop, "It's all complicated. Why keep at it if it's all so bloody complicated?"

She kept her gaze straight ahead. "I like a challenge."

"That's bullshit," he mumbled to himself, though she'd obviously heard him. Her gut reaction was to tell him to mind his own business, but in a way, he was. Whether she liked it or not, she'd involved him.

She shoved her hands into her pockets. Her heart was beating so hard she could almost feel it in her throat. "We're barely back together."

"Oh, you're still going with that?" he asked, sounding annoyed. "Why not own it already?"

"You know what, Jack," she said, feeling cornered. Sure he was cute and his smile made her tingle, but she'd be damned to let him think that because she'd gone and made a choice he didn't like, that he had the right to criticize her for it. "This is my life. I'll call it what I want, thanks. I know you think I'm a fucking idiot. You, Louis, and Sarah have all made that quite clear."

"No, the problem is that I know you're not an idiot," he snapped back, and when she chanced a look at him, she noticed he was watching the ground with such intensity that it was almost as if he was walking a tightrope. "I wish it was that easy because then this wouldn't be..." He let his voice trail off before he looked up at the sky and muttered. "Fuck."

Silence again. This was easily some of the most excruciating silence Dominique had ever experienced. Ten seconds ago she'd wanted him to melt into the ground and disappear for being such an arse and now, once again, she was staring at him wishing she could just tell him the truth. She wanted him to know that she still had feelings for him; that it wasn't that she'd chosen Henry over him because she preferred him, but rather it was comfortable. It was easy. It wasn't new and terrifying. She wasn't ready for new feelings. She could barely handle the old ones. She wanted to tell him that as long as she was with Henry, she didn't have to deal with the way she felt about him. But even if she did say it, it wouldn't make anything better. In fact, it would probably make things worse.

The castle came into view in the distance, now looming over them as a great beacon. The cloudy sky was gradually shifting from lighter shades of gray to darker ones as the sun set somewhere behind them, ushering in the night sky. Their summer ended officially once they reached the front gates and passed through them. They were back on Hogwarts' time then; its rules and restrictions. After a summer of freedom and independence, that would be the hardest change to adjust to.

Dominique wanted to leave the drama in the past and keep it in the summer. She wanted her friends back the way they'd always been, but she supposed that wasn't entirely her choice. She could only control herself.


	4. Death and Dismemberment

They'd been forced to wait outside the school's gates until the first carriage arrived. That was when the gates would open to allow everyone to enter the grounds. When it did finally come around the bend, it was almost an event—with people cheering and celebrating the fact that they could finally proceed. On board were the familiar faces of both Louis and Sarah, as well as Lira Chin and her small group of friends. It seemed they had been allowed to catch the first carriage—yet another perk of their new positions.

The group disembarked to a smaller sort of cheer; all of them grinning a bit and looking refreshed and—Dominique was sure—full of sweets.

The gates opened almost as soon as their feet hit the ground. Professor Flitwick had appeared alongside Argus Filch, the long time caretaker of the castle. Flitwick welcomed everyone back before specifically focusing on Louis and Lira and informing them that the Headmistress would like a word with both of them prior to the feast. They could find her in the Great Hall and they were to report there at once.

They—and they alone—were allowed to pass through the gates. For everyone else, Filch demanded they queue up and drop their trunks by the entrance for inspection. Their things would find their way to their rooms and they would be allowed to enter the castle as soon as they'd followed these instructions.

With Louis gone, Sarah had begun scanning the crowd. Dominique had found a quiet spot near the back where no one was bothering her; watching as Sarah looked around for a familiar face. Natalie had gone off to join her friends who'd taken the train, while Jack and Flynn were nearby and in the middle of a conversation with Michael Ellison and Jerome Bailey of Hufflepuff. Sarah spotted them straight away, pushing her way through the crowd and playfully punching both Flynn and Jack as she passed by them.

"Too good for the train now, are you?" she asked the boys as they all exchanged friendly smiles and hellos. It wasn't until Sarah stepped away that she noticed Dominique standing nearby. Her smile slipped off her face.

"Good trip?" Dominique asked.

"I cannot believe you jumped off the bloody train."

"It's not as if it was moving," she said. "It hadn't even left the station."

Sarah shook her head, now taking a heavy breath and she came to stand directly in front of her. "Louis was livid."

"Oh, no," Dominique said, laying the sarcasm on thick. "Whatever will I do?"

"You have to admit that it was a ridiculous response."

"You spend the day sharing a compartment with the two of you and you'll understand where I was coming from."

She rolled her eyes before they both turned to watch as everyone began queuing into a single file to set their trunks aside for inspection. It wasn't until the second carriage appeared around the bend, carrying another load of students, that Sarah finally asked, "You talk to Jack yet?"

Jack was several yards away from them now and wandering over to join the queue. Dominique stepped forward to follow and do the same, not wanting to be stuck behind some of the younger kids. "We spoke, but we didn't really say anything."

Sarah nodded, having followed right behind her. "Look, I'm not in the mood to argue with you, so if that's what's going to happen every time Davies' name comes up then we're not going to bring him up. You do you and…" She shrugged. "That's that. He's a ghost as far as I'm concerned."

"That's the way I'd prefer it," Dominique said, happy to hear that Sarah seemed to finally get it. She didn't want to talk about Henry. She didn't want to harp on about their relationship. She wanted everyone to understand that he was one part of her life—not the center of it. It wasn't, nor would it ever be, that kind of relationship.

"Fine," Sarah said curtly, looking up ahead at the quickly moving queue. "Anyway, how was Trunk Stack? I'm a little sad I had to miss it."

She shrugged. "It was like any other trip to the Three Broomsticks you've ever taken. Most of the usual cliques went and found their own space. Nothing particularly exciting. Oh! But there was one interesting development you'd be amused by."

She let Sarah's expression silently urge her to continue before she added, "Flynn and Natalie were very obviously flirting with each other."

Sarah's eyebrows practically jumped off her face. She was the only other person in this school who could possibly understand how ludicrous an idea that was. "You're joking?"

"Am not. Ask Jack. He saw it."

She was looking up ahead in the line now, to where Flynn and Jack were standing, but Natalie was nowhere in sight. When she turned back to Dominique, her eyes were still rather wide and doubtful. "I mean, Flynn I believe. He would flirt with a paper bag if it had tits, but Natalie? She couldn't stand him. She couldn't stand anyone in our year who wasn't—"

"Louis," Dominique finished.

"Right," she muttered. "It doesn't even make sense. Why would the princess come down from her tower and grace the peasants with her presence now?" She shook her head. "She must be desperate."

"Or horny."

"Gross. Now you've gone and given me a visual."

They made it to the front of the queue before the next set of carriages pulled up with more students. With no trunks to drop off, she and Sarah walked straight past the pile and through the courtyard. They continued on up the front steps, passed through the Entrance Hall, and down toward the doors to the Great Hall, which were wide open and ready to receive its latest collection of students for the year.

Inside, the room was lit the same as it was every first day of school, with the floating candles hovering above and providing just enough glow to make the enchanted ceiling seem otherworldly. Torches lit the sides of the room and the four large tables ran the entire length of the hall, each one now being occupied by its specific house residents.

This was the first time Dominique had ever been here this early on the first day. Usually, by the time she'd gotten through the front entrance, the place would have been half full with students. Now, seeing as there were only seventh-years present, it seemed so vast and empty. It wasn't as if she hadn't been in the Great Hall on occasion when it was scarsley full, but never on the first day of school and never before the feast.

At each table, the seventh-years from each house had all immediately taken to the back end of each table—the spot furthest from the professor's table. Louis was still standing at the front, talking to Professor McGonagall and nodding his head slowly at whatever it was she was telling him. Dominique watched him as she took her seat, though her attention eventually turned toward the students who were filing in group by group.

All around her, people were playing catch-up with their friends; discussing summers and their holiday. She scanned the crowd for familiar faces, spotting her cousin, James, as he walked in with his little entourage of friends; his younger brother Albus not too far behind him. Albus was only walking with one other boy, and currently pointing up at the ceiling as if explaining something in particular. Rosie Weasley, her other cousin, wasn't far behind him. She, too, was walking with some of her friends—Flynn's younger sister, Fiona, among them. Dominique had never connected the two being friends before, but it made sense. They would have been roommates.

Her Quidditch teammates, Tommy Hornsby and Kenley Mortimer were both walking in with their crew of sixth-years friends. Tommy, specifically, glanced down toward her and waved when he noticed her watching. She waved back, and he motioned for her to get Jack's attention.

"Hey, Jack," she said, seeing that he and Sarah were chatting across the table from her. She pointed. "Tommy's looking for you."

Jack stood up to see where she was pointing to, though immediately grinned as his Beating partner made some sort of swinging motion with his arm and called out something having to do with working hard. She couldn't make it out exactly.

"We'll see about that," Jack called back, still grinning as he sat back down. "Says he's been working on his swing."

"Here's hoping," Dominique said. "You wouldn't have to do all the work anymore."

The crowds were starting to dwindle as they took their seats. It was only a matter of time now before the first-years would be marched in to be sorted. McGonagall was ushering Louis and Lira to return to their tables, and Dominique immediately noticed that he looked preoccupied once he took his spot next to Sarah. Sarah also noticed, prompting her to ask if he was alright.

"I'm not sure," he said, his gaze immediately going to Dominique. She had anticipated a comment or lecture from him about skipping the train and had braced herself for that, but one look into his eyes made her realize he wasn't even thinking about that anymore. Something else had completely commanded his thoughts.

Whatever it was, she was meant to be concerned about it as well given the way he was looking at her. The two had always shared a deeper connection than most, but it wasn't as if she could actually read his mind. Right now, he seemed to be willing her to.

"What happened?" she asked. "What'd McGonagall say?"

"You'll find out in a minute," he said, his demeanor antsy. Something had happened that surprised him. She didn't get a chance to push further since they were then distracted by the sound of the doors to the hall being opened from the back. It was Professor Longbottom, leading the queue of little, semi-terrified eleven year-olds down the aisle between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff's table; all of them staring wide-eyed at everything there was to see. It looked as if there were so many of them.

After they'd all filed in, Longbottom called the room to attention, alerting everyone that the Sorting was about to begin. He pulled out a long scroll and called the very first name-someone with the last name Aarons. It did seem like a rather large group this year, though Dominique could simply be hungry and impatient. Her stomach was starting to loudly rumble as he made his way down the list, ticking through child after child until he'd gotten toward the end of the alphabet.

"Fre—Fred Weasley," said Professor Longbottom, though he had stuttered a bit on the name. It was strange since it wasn't a difficult name to pronounce, but it almost seemed as if Longbottom had gotten tripped up on it a little.

Louis and Dominique both raised themselves up in their seats to get a better look at the front. At the other end of the table, Albus Potter, who had always been especially close with Freddie, was now standing.

Freddie had practically bounced up to the front; not looking the least bit nervous. He smiled at Longbottom as he climbed up on the stool. "Hi, Neville. How's it going?"

Louis laughed. It was the first thing that had gotten a reaction out of him since he'd returned from his McGonagall meeting. "Did he just call Longbottom…?"

"He did," Dominique said, grinning as well. That seemed to sum Freddie Weasley up fairly accurately.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Longbottom said with a quick smile. "But it's Professor Longbottom now. You'll have to get used to that."

"Oh," Freddie shrugged. "Ok. Cool. Professor Longbottom."

Longbottom continued to grin as he placed the Sorting Hat down on Freddie's head. It didn't take long, maybe ten seconds at most, before "Gryffindor!" came bellowing out of it. The table began to cheer, though no one as loudly as Albus Potter, who was actually jumping up and down.

"I'd have bet money on that one," Dominique said to her brother, right as Longbottom's voice carried over once more at the announcement of Lucy Weasley.

"How many of you are there?" Flynn asked.

"It's a small army," Louis quipped, not taking his eyes off the front.

"Weasleys are a bloody infestation," said a voice that had clearly wanted her to hear that comment. It had come from the Ravenclaw table and had immediately made her skin crawl. She knew exactly who it was without looking. In fact, she chose not to acknowledge Giggleswick-though Louis did.

He'd let his attention go straight toward him. "Giggleswick, do you really think that was wise?"

"I...I wasn't talking to you."

"You just called my family an infestation," he said, his tone growing colder by the word. "You realize that being caught openly harassing a fellow student is an automatic ten point deduction from your house and—if I feel like it—an offense worthy of detention. You really want detention before the Sorting has even finished?"

Giggleswick said nothing. Beside him, Ansel Baileymoore was staring at Louis with a mixture of envy and distaste. He had so badly wanted the Head Boy position, but had fallen short to Louis. He didn't object to Louis' ruling, however—and if anyone knew the rules as well as Louis did, it was Ansel. Even Lira, who was sitting directly in the line of fire between Louis and Giggleswick didn't object. She was merely starting at Giggleswick as if she was already annoyed this was happening.

"You want to dispute it, take it to student tribunals and we can let the Heads of Houses decide whether or not my removal of points is just or not," Louis said before adding, "Five points from Ravenclaw."

The point markers on the wall—one for each house—hung right above the Gryffindor table; Dominique turned to see the Ravenclaw one drop slightly lower. From his seat, Giggleswick rolled his eyes. He obviously wasn't going to dispute it. No one ever did. The rule was only in place in the event that the Head Boy or Girl went mad with power and started docking opposing houses points out of spite or in order to help their own houses.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat called out, causing Lucy's older sister, Molly, to jump up and clap for joy. Dominique clapped in more of a cursory sort of way—only because it was Lucy—but she wasn't particularly happy. Both of her Uncle Percy's girls had ended up in Ravenclaw as their mother had. While not surprising, it was disappointing. Halfway up the table, Rosie Weasley looked just as disappointed.

"And now we'll infest your bloody house," Louis muttered under his breath, still staring over toward the Ravenclaws. Dominique smirked at him, which he returned.

"If we're on W, we've got to be almost finished," Jack said. "I haven't eaten since breakfast."

Dominique could agree with that. She had skipped lunch on account of having left all her money on the train and her stomach was ready to fight her unless she ate something. There looked to be two more scared looking first-years waiting to be sorted, then McGonagall would address them, and they'd finally have dinner. She had to wait, maybe, five more minutes.

"I'm actually quite content," Sarah said. "But there was loads of food on the train. So much food."

Dominique threw her a look across the table, which she was now returning with a satisfied smirk meant just for her.

Once the Sorting finally commenced, Professor McGonagall was already rising to the podium, her dark green robes trailing behind her and her grey hair pulled up underneath the burgundy hat she tended to favor. She was a strict, but generally fair headmistress and preferred the no nonsense approach when it came to handling students. Dominique's father had fond memories of her being his Transfiguration professor, as well as his Head of House in Gryffindor. She'd also been quite the badass during the war-so Dominique was told-and it was usually frowned upon around her extended family to talk negatively about her. They had a lot of respect for her.

"Good evening," McGongall began, her eyes travelling all around the room. "I'd first like to welcome all of our new students to the start of an extraordinary magical journey. Within these walls, you will find every tool you need to become a highly competent and successful wizard. It is your choice and your choice alone to do what you will with those tools. There are lifelong friends to be made and adventures to be had. Today marks the beginning for you. Welcome to Hogwarts."

An applause broke out throughout the hall, though McGonagall held up her hand as if to let her finish.

"To our returning students, welcome back. Welcome home. This year will be like no other that you've experienced thus far. You will all get to bear witness to a truly special event that only occurs once a generation."

Dominique's brow furrowed as she glanced back across the table to Louis. He'd been looking at McGonagall, but the second he felt her eyes on him, he turned to her. He was back to acting antsy; his expression silently telling her to brace herself. What on Earth was happening?

"It has been over twenty years," McGonagall continued, "since we, as a school, have participated in such a momentous event. An event meant to bring together members of the wizarding community on a grand scale. On an international level."

She blinked. International level? Twenty years? If she didn't know any better, this was starting to sound a lot like—

She froze, her eyes growing wide before she rounded back on Louis. There was no way. No fucking way. They couldn't. They wouldn't. A boy had died. He'd died right outside on the bloody grounds of this school.

Louis had started nodding his head slowly, as if reading her mind.

"No," she said to him.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Dunno."

"What?" Sarah asked, glancing between the two of them. It wasn't only her who seemed to have questions. Everyone else around them was now looking confused. They hadn't put the pieces together yet, but why would they? They obviously hadn't spent their lives hearing the stories of the last—

"The Triwizard Tournament," McGonagall said, "is an age-old event meant to test the courage, bravery, and skills of young wizards from the three largest wizarding schools in Europe. Hogwarts had the honor of hosting the last one and also to have its champion come from these hallowed halls."

"You also had one die," Dominique said to no one in particular. All around her, everyone was whispering in an excited or confused sort of way—all except for her and Louis.

There was nothing exciting about the Triwizard Tournament as far as she was concerned. Her mother had been the champion from Beauxbatons in the last one McGonagall was referring to; she had travelled here to Hogwarts to compete. She'd fought a dragon and been accosted by merpeople, and to this day still refused to swim in open water because of that memory. She'd watched as a fellow competitor called Cedric Diggory was pulled out of the last challenge dead at the hands of Voldemort, who had hijacked the tournament for his own gain.

Her mother still had nightmares about what she'd experienced. She'd often said she could still sometimes close her eyes and see Cedric's body lying there. Dominique once made the mistake of asking her why it was Cedric who stuck with her so closely when she'd obviously seen so many things due to the war. The answer was simple: he was the first—and that you never forget the first.

"Now, some of you may have heard the stories of the last Tournament," McGonagall was now saying. "As I look out, I see the children of some of those very champions—"

Dominique slunk down in her seat at hearing that.

"And the stories you've heard are most likely grand and great, as well as horrifying and troublesome. They are all very true. I cannot deny how dangerous this tournament can be for its participants. People have died. Hogwarts' students have died."

The room got very quiet at that. Now people were looking at each other a little wearily. At least McGonagall wasn't sugar coating things.

"Measures have been taken to change things this time," McGonagall continued. "Participants must be at least seventeen years of age."

A groan from around the room. Dominique wanted to smack each and every one of these kids who didn't understand that it wasn't just a warning that death could happen—it was a reality.

"The last time we had an issue with the age of one of our participants, and I can assure you it will not happen again." She turned to glance at the Gryffindor table. "I would hate to give anyone the impression that they can follow in father's footsteps while remaining very much underage."

James Potter was grinning while some of his friends swatted him in a playful way and laughed at what was clearly directed to him—or perhaps Albus. But James was fourteen, which would have been the exact age his father would have been when his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire—the magical object that chose who got to participate and who didn't. Again, it had only happened since Voldemort had gained control of it somehow, but Dominique had always thought it was ridiculous that no one stopped a fourteen-year-old from competing in a competition made for people three years old. If one adult had stepped up and simply had the courage to say no, then Voldemort would have had to come up with a plan B and Cedric wouldn't have been murdered.

"The tournament itself will also be vastly different," McGongagall said. "It will not take place in a singular location, but rather each of the three schools will host an event. Champions will travel from location to location for several weeks at a time to get comfortable with their surroundings before they compete. It will be an amazing opportunity to see other wizarding schools and immerse yourself in their culture."

"Wow," Louis said, seeming surprised to hear that. "So, they get to go to Beauxbatons and Durmstrang."

"Oh, good, they can travel to their potential death," Dominique muttered.

"You know, most people don't die."

Dominique glared at him. "It only takes one for me to care."

"The Cedric thing was really a fluke and you know it. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was Harry that Voldemort was after—"

"Yeah, Lou. Mum's told me the same stories she's told you," she said. Was he seriously making excuses? Had he not paid attention to those stories at all?

"The biggest change," McGonagall was now saying, "is the one that I feel is the most exciting. Hogwarts will have the honor of having two champions represent it in this tournament. That is, two legitimately chosen, of-age champions. Each school will have both a male and female representative."

That piece of news got the room going. A tizzy of noise and excitement filled the Great Hall, with people pointing at whom they thought should be chosen and why they felt they would be the best candidate. Dominique sat in her seat doing nothing more than staring down at the tabletop. She wished she could have been as excited as everyone else, but her mother had never made the tournament sound enticing to her. She'd made it sound scary and life changing.

McGonagall would wrap her speech by saying that a new and improved Goblet of Fire would be arriving shortly and that any student who met the requirements was welcome to submit their names. There would be an age line and precautions to keep out the riff-raff; they would have a month from the day of the Goblet's arrival to submit. Students were to think long and hard about entering because—again—it was very dangerous, but the accolades were great. You would forever be known and remembered as a Hogwarts' champion.

Dominique actually laughed at that. She'd bet any money that almost everyone in the room had never even heard the name Cedric Diggory, which disproved that you'd be remembered. Outside of an apparent portrait at Beauxbatons, no one bothered to bring up that her mother was ever one. The famed Seeker, Victor Krum, had been the Durmstrang champion, and she knew for a fact that he was far better known for everything else in his life that he'd accomplished and not a tournament he'd participated in as a teenager. And then when it came to her Uncle Harry—the actual winner—everyone, of course, remembered him, but for about a hundred other reasons.

McGonagall concluded by saying there was more information to come and that details would be provided as necessary. Students were to stay out of the Forbidden Forest and away from the restricted corridors or else they'd receive detention. Some more comments about the school followed, but by then Dominique didn't care. She'd stopped paying attention and only snapped back to reality once the feast magically appeared in front of her. She wasn't even hungry anymore.

"Are you going to enter?" everyone was asking around them, now tucking into their food.

"There's money you can win. I've heard it's a lot."

"You'll be famous."

"I'm going to do it. "

"I turn seventeen next week. Of course I'm entering."

"You think we get to go to the challenges to watch?" Jack asked, cutting through some roast beef. "Like the ones at Beauxbatons or Durmstrang? I mean, I feel like we should be able to go and cheer for them during the event."

"Good question," Louis said. "My mum said that when she was in it, the whole lot of eligible candidates from her school came to Hogwarts to enter and stayed the whole time, so she had that support."

"Do they miss school?" Sarah was asking. "What about exams?"

"I think they had some travel tutors or something come with them," Louis said. "I seemed to remember my Mum saying that. You didn't miss school." He looked at Dominique for confirmation.

"Champions didn't have to take exams," she said quietly. "They were excused. Mum said they gave her top marks in all her basic subjects. If she wanted to, she could sit for any of the secondary subjects. She didn't. After what she'd been through, she wasn't in the right headspace to be sitting for some stupid Astronomy test."

"Wait, if I get chosen, I don't have to sit for N.E.W.T.s?" Flynn asked, gaping.

Dominique shrugged. "That's how it was last time."

"Oh shit, I'm entering," he said, stuffing his face with ham. "Can you imagine not having to take any exams?"

"You also don't have to sit for exams if you get eaten by a dragon," she countered.

"I mean, either way…"

She shook her head and forced herself to eat some potatoes. So much for a normal seventh- year. Now it would be a circus. There would be events and challenges and random people here. The distractions would be vast, and this was all on top of the fact that she still had to take N.E.W.T.s. She'd already had her plate full with school and Quidditch and now—

Her head flew up in alarm. She'd just remembered something else her Uncle George had told her about the Triwizard Tournament. "Louis."

Louis had just put a large bit of asparagus into his mouth, but was looking at her as if urging her to speak.

"Did they say anything about Quidditch? Did McGonagall say anything?"

He continued to chew. "Vut about it?"

"They canceled it last time," she said, staring at him. "They canceled the whole season due to the tournament."

"What?!" Jack said, sounding alarmed. She was happy that at least someone shared her concern.

"They needed the arena to grow a hedge maze for the tournament," Dominique said. "So they canceled the entire season."

Jack looked horrified. Louis, having finally swallowed, said, "Oh, shit. No, she didn't mention it. I can ask."

She continued to stare at him.

"After I finish eating…"

She continued to stare at him.

"I'm not going up there now," he said in a final word sort of way. "She's eating. I'm eating."

She continued to stare at him.

"You go if you want to know so bad." He stabbed his porkchop. "And I feel if they were going to cancel it, she would have said something. It's not like last time where the whole tournament took place here."

"Yeah, but she usually makes an announcement about Quidditch tryouts at the end of the speech and she didn't."

"She probably forgot with all the tournament talk."

Dominique finally looked away. As if she needed another reason to hate the tournament. She needed this Quidditch season more than she'd ever needed anything. She needed the playing time, the ability to perform, and the exposure to scouts. She needed it for her own sanity.

They wrapped up dinner and Louis had excused himself to supervise the prefects to ensure they were doing their jobs and leading the first-years to their respective houses. Everyone else was filing out of the Great Hall in a tired but excited haze as they made their way back to familiar common rooms and beds. Dominique lingered behind, waiting for everyone to leave and hoping to catch McGonagall and ask about the state of Quidditch this term. Her friends had all begun to follow the crowd out, though she saw Jack break away and doubleback.

"Are you going to ask?" he asked, walking right up to her. It seemed as if whatever coldness or awkwardness that had been present before the feast had vanished now that they had a common concern to deal with.

She nodded, though at that very moment she saw McGonagall making a swift exit with Professors Ivanson and Corley at her side. She wanted to chase them down, but she just as quickly noticed that Longbottom was still in his seat talking to a handful of students who had approached him. He had to know what was happening.

"Longbottom," she said to Jack as he turned to look as well. "We should ask him." She moved past him and started to walk ahead, though she stopped and rounded back on him. She was having second thoughts. "Should you be the one asking?"

"Why me?"

"You're the captain. Isn't this your thing?"

"It's our thing since it affects us both," he said, nudging her forward.

She took a deep breath before continuing up toward the professors' table. She and Longbottom had always had a very up and down relationship. Almost everyone liked him because he was generally pretty easy-going, but no professor in the school ever came down on her the way he had. Perhaps it was because he was her Head of House, but almost all of the detentions she'd ever received were at the hands of him.

He had also been the one who had refused to listen to reason and suspended her from the final Quidditch match during her fifth year, causing Gryffindor—his own house—to lose the cup. She'd never quite forgiven him for that and wasn't sure she ever would. She'd actually dropped Herbology entirely the following year—despite getting a decent O.W.L in the subject—because she couldn't bring herself to face him.

Longbottom was still chatting to students as they approached the front, and it was then that she noticed that they were members of the Herbology club. She found herself standing there awkwardly as she and Jack exchanged quick looks; now patiently waiting for their conversation to end. After another couple of minutes, Longbottom noticed them and quickly bid the Herbology kids goodnight.

"Mr. Ians. Miss Weasley," he said, smiling at them both. "Good to see you both. I hope you had good summers?"

"I did, yes, sir," Jack said, nodding.

Dominique didn't reply. In her peripherals, she saw that Louis had finished up and was now wandering over to where they were standing.

"Did you need—?" Longbottom began.

"Is there going to be Quidditch?" she asked, forgoing the pleasantries.

Longbottom looked at her as if he'd wondered where a question like that had come from. "As far as I know. Is there a reason we wouldn't have Quidditch this year?"

"They canceled it last time there was a tournament," Louis offered, having now stepped up next to his sister. "And there were no announcements for tryouts in the welcome speech."

"That's right, they did," Longbottom said in a far away tone, as if suddenly remembering. "You're absolutely right." He nodded. "Well, as I said, I haven't heard otherwise. Seeing as the tournament is spread over three schools, we should definitely have room for it this time. It may be a shorter season, or adjusted in some way, but I'll find out the details. I'm sure the tryout information will be posted in your common room by the week's end." He looked at Jack. "What are we looking for this year?"

"Chasers," he said. "We need two."

Longbottom grinned. "I'm sure you'll find just the right people. I have a feeling this year about Gryffindor." He turned that grin onto Dominique, as if to say that the matter was over and not to worry. She chose not to react one way or the other.

Longbottom turned back to Louis. "And Mr. Weasley, I haven't had a chance to properly congratulate you on becoming Head Boy. I'll have you know it was a unanimous choice."

Louis smiled his perfectly charming smile. "Thank you, sir."

"I'm sure your parents were thrilled," Longbottom continued, now standing and moving around the table toward the exit. Both Louis and Jack followed, though Dominique hung back. "It's going to be an exciting year, I can promise you that. I can still remember the last tournament. It definitely shakes things up around here." He stopped to face the group of them. "Are any of you planning on entering?" He glanced first at Jack. "There's prize money and loads of acclaim."

Jack shook his head, laughing a little awkwardly. Dominique was actually pleasantly surprised to see that he'd decided not to enter. For her it seemed like the only choice, but everyone else had already caught the fever. Not Jack, apparently. That was a nice surprise.

"As long as Quidditch isn't canceled, I have no reason to," he said. "I have a lot riding on this season and I'd rather go with the sure thing over the possible—"

"Death and dismemberment?" Dominique said, finishing his sentence for him. She never took her gaze off of Longbottom as she spoke.

Longbottom's lips pursed slightly as he now took Dominique in. "I take it, that's a 'no' from you as well, Miss Weasley?"

"No disrespect, Professor, but you were there for the last one," she said. "You had to have seen Cedric Diggory's dead body. I heard everyone did."

The pleasantry on Longbottom's face slipped off entirely.

"And I feel as if it's irresponsible to be encouraging your students to involve themselves in something this dangerous. It's wreckless for Hogwarts to even be participating."

"Nic..." Louis mumbled.

"My mother still has nightmares," she continued, still staring at him. "You'd never know it, but that tournament has haunted her for over twenty years."

Longbottom made a breathy sort of noise. "I have no doubt it has, Miss Weasley. Your mother is a remarkably strong woman. And yes, that day haunts me as well, as do tens of other horrible memories that came out of those years. If you think about it, I was younger than you are now and I can't even put into words how it's shaped me as a person." He looked away. "That being said, what happened to Cedric Diggory was yet another awful crime committed by Voldemort. The tournament was merely the location he chose to carry it out."

Dominique didn't respond. It was clear that she was the only one who didn't see this stupid tournament as being innocent in all of this. There was no point arguing.

"I do hope that you'll see that with the new rules and changes that Professor McGonagall and others have implemented that this event can be a truly amazing experience," he said, turning himself slightly toward the exit. He caught Louis' eyes and gave him a quick nod. "I take it you share your sister's sentiments and won't be entering either?"

Louis shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it."

Dominique glared at him. He what? What was there to think about? This was open and shut.

"Well, it's definitely something you need to be sure of," Longbottom said to him before giving them all a look to say he was excusing himself. "But it's late and you should all be getting back up to Gryffindor Tower." He smiled at them all. "Goodnight to all of you."

"Goodnight, sir," Louis and Jack said in mixed unison as Dominique simply watched Longbottom go. It wasn't until he disappeared entirely around the corner that Louis turned and threw his sister an exasperated look. "You're aware you're not stopping this, right? It's already planned and—"

She walked over and with no warning, punched him hard in the arm. Hard enough that he grabbed it and yelped, now glaring at her.

"You haven't really thought about it!?" she yelled, reaching back to do it again though this time he had the good sense to move. "What in the bloody hell do you mean you haven't thought about it!?"

"I mean that I haven't given it a single thought," he said, still moving away from her as she was now slow chasing him toward the exit. "Shit, Nic. Relax."

"Don't tell me to relax!" she said, speeding up after him. "Are you mental? You know bloody well—"

He stopped and put his hands up in front of him in mock surrender. "I do know. I know everything you're going to say. Can we stop with the bodily harm?"

She glared at him, not so sure she was ready to make that deal quite yet. He evidently needed some sense smacked into that pretty little head of his. Did he not realize that he could not enter that competition? If anyone couldn't enter, it was him. There was no one in the school in a better position to be chosen as a champion than her brother; if the Goblet got ahold of his name, it was sure to pick him right out of the rest of the crowd. The only way to stop that from happening—leaving nothing to chance—was for him to swear he wouldn't enter.

"No, we can't stop," she said, swatting him once more. "Not until you promise," she swatted again, "that you won't," she swatted again, "enter the competition—"

Jack grabbed her shoulders and held her back, right as Louis backed several paces away and continued to stare at her as if she'd gone mad. She probably had; she didn't care. She cared about him too much to let him even think about doing something like this.

"Shit, Nic." He looked down to inspect his arm. "I'm pretty sure that last one left a mark."

Her breathing was heavy now, but she said nothing. Jack was still holding onto her shoulders.

Louis sighed, throwing her a sympathetic look. "Nothing's going to happen this time. You know that?"

"I don't know that. No one knows that."

"Well, trust me when I say I won't do anything stupid."

"Like enter the tournament?"

The look he was giving her was one she could read like a book. He could try to lie to her all he wanted, but she could always see through him. Some twins often boasted of being able to read each other's thoughts or finishing each other's sentences, and while they could never quite do that, she could always sense things with Louis before it was clear—sometimes even to him. He genuinely hadn't written the tournament off yet. He was thinking about it. He may actually do it, but he wasn't going to admit that to. He wasn't going to admit anything to her. What he failed to realize is that his eyes had already spoken more than his words ever could.


	5. On the Team

The start of the new term was usually spent comparing schedules and planning days with friends, but this year it was almost exclusively talk of the tournament and who was entering. Someone with some maths skills had come out with the odds of likely candidates, and by the third day of school, the list had already begun circulating.

In the lead was Louis due to his skill level; combined with the fact that their mother was a prior champion. Dominique noticed that even she had higher odds than she probably should have, but apparently being the child of a former champion meant something. She wasn't aware the Goblet of Fire felt family ties were of any importance, but it didn't matter. She wasn't entering, so it was a moot point.

Longbottom had been correct. By midway through the week, the news board in their common room now displayed a notice announcing that Quidditch tryouts would be held that Saturday morning—which was roughly a week earlier than normal. If this truly were to be a shorter season, then it was important to get started as soon as possible. Jack had gone in behind and scribbled "Only Chasers need apply" in the hopes that they wouldn't have to deal with the randoms who turned up unaware of what positions were even open. It happened every year.

And already—after only a single week—Dominique was drowning in school work. A ten page Transfiguration essay on top of the seemingly endless reading; over fifty pages of Rune translations due by the following week; pages and pages of Charms book work; a five page Defense Against the Dark Arts essay that had to be completed in two days. That one seemed to be the easiest of her workload and it had still taken her six hours to complete from start to finish—and that was with copying and rearranging most of Louis' essay. There was not enough time in the day to complete everything and do anything more than sleep and maybe eat. This was only the first week.

"I'm starting to have second thoughts on entering this tournament if it means I can skip this and never think about N.E.W.T.s again," Jack mumbled one night in the library—his head face down on the table after four straight hours of writing.

Dominique glared at him, though it was Louis who joked, "Don't let Nic hear you say that." He looked across the table at her. "Why aren't you hitting him?"

Once Saturday had rolled around, Dominique was thrilled for the break as she readied herself for Quidditch tryouts. If anything could cheer her up after a week of absolute stress and exhaustion, it was a morning of flying and being at her favorite place at Hogwarts.

She felt oddly optimistic about the day, as if she knew something extraordinary would occur. She had a good feeling about this year seeing as Ravenclaw's team had been a bit gutted to graduation. They needed to replace two Chasers and a Beater, while Slytherin lost both of their Beaters. Hufflepuff lost only a Chaser, but no one seemed entirely too concerned with them. They truly were abysmal lately.

As she entered the pitch, she immediately noticed that there were already tens and tens of people warming up and flying around on their brooms. Some were tossing a Quaffle around and others were trying to push their speed. She stopped to take in the sight, noting that it was a larger crowd than they were used to. It reaffirmed to her that they were going to find someone great today.

She crossed the pitch to where Bernard Eatins—a deep-voiced fifth-year and their lone remaining Chaser—was sitting beside Jack on a bench; the latter of whom now writing something on a clipboard. He didn't look up when Dominique approached, though Eatins acknowledged her.

"Weasley," he said with a nod, which made Jack stop what he was doing.

"Eatins," she said, returning the nod. She went and sat on Jack's other side and looked over his clipboard. He was scribbling down drill procedures.

"Trying to figure which ones I want to see," he told her without waiting for her to ask. "Eatins wants me to run these." He was now pointing at two with the tip of his quill.

"You should make them run that one," Dominique said, pointing to one of his scribbles at the bottom of the page. "That'll let you see passing skills better than either of those two."

Jack nodded. "I said the same thing, but Eatins bitched and moaned—"

"That drill pass is hard enough when you've got Chasers that know what they're doing," Eatins interrupted. "Half of these people look as if they've never even ridden a broom before."

He wasn't wrong. Dominique watched as Quaffle after Quaffle continued to get dropped. They didn't seem to know how to fly and focus at the same time. That was never a good sign.

Tommy Hornsby and Kenley Mortimer, the last two players that rounded out their team, had arrived and were now crossing the pitch. They were both sixth-years, with Tommy having been on the team since his fourth-year and Kenley her fifth. Tommy, while large and powerful, was also rather lazy. He had loads of potential—Jack was always saying so—but he rarely seemed to do anything with it. Jack was patient with him and spent more time at practice helping him rather than working on anything himself. He was determined to make Tommy better.

Then there was the famous Kenley. The reason Dominique and Jack fought most. Dominique always pointed out her lack of skills; Jack always defended her. She would be lying if she said she hadn't been hoping there would be three vacant positions this year, but it seemed Kenley was keen to hang in there. Even after a season of Dominique harassing her and a snog with Jack at the end of last year, she seemed perfectly content with how things were. She was even grinning as she approached.

"Morning," she said brightly, as Tommy stood beside her looking sleepy. "Nice to see everyone."

Jack smiled at her, not even the slightest trace of awkwardness on either of their faces. It was almost as if nothing had ever happened between them. "You too." He turned and looked at Tommy. "You ready for this?"

"As I'll ever be," Tommy muttered. "You think we'll find anyone decent to replace Devon and Alex?"

Jack shrugged and immediately launched into a Quidditch explanation as to what he was looking for. Dominique tuned him out—having already heard it—and decided instead to move to the grass where she could get in some stretches. It was freshly mowed and she found herself inhaling every scent she could. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, better than the start of Quidditch season. Something about the time of the year, the temperature of the air, the feel of the season. There was no doubt in her mind that if she ever got wind of a vile of Amortentia, this would be the first thing she would smell in it. This was love.

"Lots of young kids this year," Eatins said, now joining her on the grass. He was sitting and now squinting into the sun soaked crowd surrounding them.

"A few older ones," Dominique said, pointing out a fifth-year boy named Rory who had been trying out for the team for years. He wasn't great, but he always tried. He made a decent alternate.

"Who's your money on?" Eatins asked.

Dominique inhaled slowly and began searching the crowd. A tall girl with blonde hair—maybe a fourth year—looked really athletic, but could she fly? A few of the younger ones looked scrappy enough, but again, how well could they handle a broom?

"How about your cousin? Wasn't his mum a professional Chaser?" Eatins asked, pointing through the crowd toward the boy that Dominique hadn't noticed until that second. There—dark hair, lanky, and with at least three people flanking him—stood James Potter. He'd gotten taller over the summer; he had to be taller than her now. She knew one thing for sure, James had always been very proficient on a broom.

"Yeah, she was," she said, nodding slowly as she watched James and his friends. "He's good. I've watched him. His mum was really good. His dad—'

"Is Harry Potter," Eatins interrupted. "Yeah, we all know."

"He was also the youngest Seeker in a century. He made the team as a first-year, which is unheard of. James comes from some pretty good Quidditch stock."

Eatin's hummed, sounding impressed. "It'd be great to get some support out there. This has got to be our year."

"You're telling me. I need this to be a good season more than anyone."

"Doesn't Jack as well?"

"Jack got a nine at the Trials," she said to him and she reached down to pick up her broom. "He just has to not fuck up and he's as good as in." She looked up at the sky. "I have more to prove."

It was then that Jack, who had finally finished writing on his clipboard, rose from the bench and walked directly over to where she and Eatins were sitting. His eyes locked on hers and in a hurried sort of way, he asked, "You ready to get started?"

"You're the captain. Are you ready?"

He nodded absently, reading over his notes. "Eatins, you warmed up? You're doing a lot of the heavy lifting today. It's all on you."

Eatins sighed, standing from the ground. "I'll go get my broom."

Jack watched him go before looking down at Dominique. "A lot of young kids." He glanced up into the stands. "And a lot of people turned up to watch."

She followed his gaze, where maybe thirty people were sitting, ready to take in the day's tryouts. She would do this for the other houses' when they held tryouts as an excuse to take in the competition. Sarah and Louis were up there somewhere, along with others who were looking for an excuse to get out of the castle and enjoy these early autumn days.

There were the usual sorts—some looking to get out, like Louis and Sarah; some who were generally interested in Quidditch, like she was; and some who were generally interested in Quidditch players, like Sarah and Natalie used to be when they were giggly fourth-year girls gawking over the older boys. Dominique could already spot a fresh group of young girls—about five of them from various houses—that immediately reminded her of Sarah and Natalie from years ago. One was already pointing and giggling at a boy who was—rather obviously—adjusting himself through his trousers. A couple of the others seemed to be watching Jack with great interest.

"I think you've got a fan club," she said as she stood from the ground, now brushing the damp grass off of her.

He barely glanced up over his clipboard in their general direction before returning back to it. "Get back to me when they're not twelve."

"Awww, you're not going to give them a show like Thorpe and Reynolds used to? Take your shirt off and flex?" She laughed, remembering how annoyed she would get when they would do that instead of just playing. She had always been in the minority. Ravenclaw's practices used to draw quite a crowd.

Jack made a doubtful noise. "If I remember correctly, you used to tear them apart for that. You'd always call them 'vain little tossers.'"

"I did." She continued to smile at the memory. "And they really were, but the girls did love it."

"You apparently did, too," he said. "Maybe not then, but you clearly came around on Reynolds."

"Boo. Cheap shot."

He smirked, now handing her his clipboard as he bent over to adjust his trainer. "Tell you what, I'll take mine off when you do the same."

"Well, that's never happening," she muttered, thrusting the clipboard back at him once he stood back up. "And even if I would, no one's out here to gawk at the girls."

"You sure about that?" he asked, gesturing behind her. She turned around to where he'd motioned and noticed a small group of boys who were there to tryout—probably a mix of second and third-years—watching her. They purposely turned away once she caught them.

"Do I have grass on my arse or something?" she asked, aimlessly reaching around to brush at whatever must have caught their attention.

"I think you just have arse on your arse," Jack said. "They were doing a rubbish job keeping it subtle. You can't just out right gawk."

"Get off it. I have no arse. Flat as a board. Concave, even."

"It's not concave."

She stared at him for a moment. "How do you know?"

He let himself laugh before immediately saying, "Time to get this started." He turned to address the waiting group, though she watched him walk off. She cracked a small smile and felt rather bouncy all of the sudden, but restrained herself as she meandered over to where the meeting had just kicked off.

"—we're looking to fill two vacant Chaser positions today," Jack was saying, already mid-sentence, "We'll split you all into groups for drills—"

"Will we get a chance to challenge?" came a random voice from the mix. Dominique hadn't seen the asker, but whomever it was knew their rules. A challenge? She hadn't seen one of those during her entire time here at Hogwarts.

She'd read about them, of course. One of the few books she'd read multiple times here at Hogwarts was _Hogwarts Quidditch: An Official Rules Guide_. In it, all the basic rules were discussed. There were plenty of rules that never saw the light of day due to the obscure nature of them actually occurring, such as what to do if a Bludger found itself bewitched; or how, in the event of a dementor swarming the pitch, how officials should respond. There were instructions on how to deal with every possible nuance this sport had to offer.

But challenges were something that—while allowed—never occurred. The rule stated that while all former players were allowed to keep their positions, they could be challenged by any newcomer who felt they may be a better fit. If this were to happen, the two would compete for the position in a general 'winner takes all' scenario. The only exception to this was the captain, who was guaranteed his or her position regardless. At one time, it had been a popular way to shake teams up, but now it was an obsolete concept. It was better to earn your position properly.

"Uh, challenges _are_ allowed?" Jack stammered, glancing over to Dominique for confirmation. "Do we...?"

She gave a quick shrug, but nodded. It had been awhile since she'd last read the book; she wasn't sure of the exact details.

"Yeah, I mean, I guess," he said, not sounding excited by the prospect. "But let's worry about Chasers first. That's what I actually need."

Everyone was split into groups of five, and Eatins was forced to run routes and drills with each of them. Kenley had to man the rings for each run, while Dominique and Tommy had to run interference and attempt to get in the way of everyone attempting to fly the Quaffle to the rings. Jack took it upon himself to knock easy Bludgers at everyone, attempting to judge how well they could avoid them.

The groups were composed of people who were on entirely different levels of skill. In one, Eatins couldn't find anyone to pass the Quaffle to, whether because they were slow, or confused, or unable to make a simple catch. In another, he couldn't get anyone to pass it to him. When it came to scoring, either Kenley had been working hard over the summer to become the best Keeper known to Hogwarts, or many of these people simply could not get it near the rings. At one point, Tommy—who'd been sitting on his broom in the center of the pitch, not even moving—had stopped two people without even trying. Of the fifty attempts taken at the rings, Dominique had maybe seen it sunk six times.

"This isn't looking good," Tommy muttered as he flew by her at one point. The two of them had stopped running interference because it didn't matter. These kids couldn't do anything when they had no opposition; what were they supposed to do when they actually had another team to play?

Jack—who'd also stopped hitting Bludgers at that point—pulled up next to her on her broom. She barely threw him a glance, but for what she could tell, he looked frustrated. His eyes never left the scene in front of him where Eatins was running dizzying flying maneuvers all around the wannabes.

"What do you think?"

She hummed, but didn't say anything.

"Yeah, I know," he said, as if reading her mind. "But we've still got one more group. There's got to be something I can work with. Asking for two standouts may be a bit much, but one should be doable."

"I'd bet any money that James Potter will put on a show for you," she said, nodding in the direction of where her younger cousin sat. watching the spectacle. His group was due up next.

"I don't want a show, I want people who can fly and sink a bloody Quaffle."

"He'll do that. He was always really gifted on a broom."

It was Jack's turn to hum now as he watched as the Quaffle dropped yet again to the ground below. Eatins, who was sweating and clearly annoyed, was now staring at him as if asking what the hell he was supposed to do with these people.

"This is ridiculous," Jack muttered, though he suddenly glanced over at her. "Also, what the hell am I supposed to do with a challenge? When did that become a thing?"

"Technically always."

"So, what if this kid beats one of you?" he asked. "I get no say in the matter? I just have to accept it? That's bullshit."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said. "Statistically, it's more difficult to beat a player out of a position than to tryout for it."

They were back to silently watching the group in front of them for a long moment. Jack suddenly asked, "What about the blonde girl—number eleven?"

"She's the best of this bunch. Great with rebounds, but her flying is...off. It's—"

"Crooked or something, right?" he asked. "She's always learning left. Yeah, I saw that. But that can be adjusted."

"Sure," she said, "But do you really want to start the season with a project?"

He threw her a quick grin before glancing back. He didn't say anything, but she knew what he was thinking. She was right. Perhaps it was because she'd been the one to teach him so much about the game, but their opinions rarely differed when it came to the technical aspects. Even with their biggest disagreement—Kenley—Dominique could see the potential in her that Jack was always harping on about. She just didn't have time to wait around for it to develop.

"Next group!" Jack suddenly yelled, as he flew off to watch from another point on the pitch.

This group was better and faster than the other groups; within the first five minutes, Dominique saw two potential Chasers—with James Potter being the immediate stand-out. She'd only ever heard the stories about her uncle's Seeking days, but she had seen her Aunt Ginny play toward the end of her career—a career she ironically retired from in order to have James—and she had been pretty stellar. James was shadowing his mother's ability effortlessly, weaving in and out of the pack and scoring Quaffle after Quaffle. He was practically flying circles around his competition; Kenley couldn't stop a single one of his attempts. Of course, that probably had just as much to do with Kenley's lack of skills as it did James' ability.

"I told you he was good," Dominique said once Jack had circled back around.

He made a noise of agreement. "What's he? A fourth-year?"

She nodded. "I don't know if I was that good back then."

"I thought you were," he said, still watching James before rounding back on her. "So, it's safe to say Potter's in. Thoughts on the other spot?"

She immediately ran two names by Jack, one of whom he seemed particularly keen on. It had been a third-year girl called Alice from James' group who had done well and managed a few scores even with James running the show on everyone else. She'd shown the most potential. When Eatins, who was sweaty and completely out of breath, pulled up beside the pair of them, Jack was ready to run those options by him.

"I'm done," he muttered, panting while he wiped the sweat off of his face with his shirt. "For the love of Merlin, please tell me you're done running drills."

"We're done," Jack said, lifting the clipboard up so Eatin could read the names on it. "I'm thinking these two—" He pointed at the two names. "What say you? Think you can work with them?"

Eatins squinted, sweat dripping into his eyes, to read the list. He nodded. "Potter and Hawkinson. Yeah, I could get behind those two. Potter's a beast out there. Hawkinson sunk every Quaffle she threw."

Dominique sighed. "Well, you'll notice that when Kenley got some real competition, she couldn't stop them."

Jack stopped what he was doing to throw her a look. "You want to get up there and do it? She blocked a lot more than she let through today."

"Of course she did. With the rubbish most of these people were throwing, anyone could have. What are we going to do when it's not some third-years who can't aim? When it's the Slytherin P.I.C.s just pummeling her?"

"She's clearly gotten better. You have to have seen that."

"She's barely..." Dominique began, but she couldn't even bother to finish the sentence out of sheer exasperation at this point. She and Jack would fight to the death over this girl and she had no idea why. How did he not see it? Was he being deliberately obtuse? With a heavy sigh, she muttered, "Seriously, your hard-on for this girl is exhausting."

Eatins coughed a little, choosing that moment to fly off.

Jack's expression turned cold. As soon as she saw it, she realized she'd fucked up. It had come out without much thought; much like most of the things she said when she was frustrated. Given everything that had happened in the past,—how Kenely was a bit of a sore spot for him—she shouldn't have taken it there. It didn't help that Jack took his job seriously. Her insinuating, in front of other teammates, that Kenley was still on the team because Jack had ulterior motives was undermining him in a way she knew would set him off.

"Piss off. I'm not doing this again this season," he said before he flew off toward the ground.

"I didn't…" she called after him, but he wasn't listening. He'd already reached the ground and was calling over to the crowd to have everyone gather around.

"Alright, let's get this out of the way," he was saying as Dominique landed. "Who asked for the bloody challenge?"

Everyone looked around at each other, as if expecting the person standing next to them to step forward. Heads turned and eyes jumped around from face to face to see who exactly would be the one breaking out an antiquated rule in an attempt to make this team. There was a small clamouring around the center of the group—as if someone was pushing someone else forward—before one person separated himself from the pack. Standing there, rather blankly with his broom still in hand from his tryout just minutes before, was James Potter.

Jack stared at him, as if perhaps this was some sort of mistake. There was a small murmur of confusion as to why James, who was a sure thing at this point, was challenging anyone. He had to know he'd made the team. He'd gotten applause from almost the entire arena when he'd landed after his tryout.

"Alright…" Jack said slowly. "What position are you challenging, then?"

"Um, Seeker."

Dominique blinked. Had he...? All around her, eyes were now landing on her. She could feel everyone staring at her, including most of the Chaser crowd who'd turned to catch her reaction.

The last set of eyes she looked at belonged to Jack. Despite their spat minutes before, this didn't seem like something he wanted to happen. His expression was full of uncertainty; he still didn't seem sure this was allowed to happen. But of course it was. Only the captain was guaranteed their spot.

"You're serious?" Dominique asked, staring at her cousin. "You want to challenge me?"

James nodded. "If I can."

She blinked again. She was trying not to let the annoyance that had started boiling up inside of her show. Everyone was watching her. She was being challenged for her spot. This was happening.

"You've got this," said Eatins, who had picked up her broom to hand to her. "Who challenges someone, let alone a seventh-year?"

"Especially when he'd easily won a Chaser spot," said Tommy. "How many positions does this kid need to prove he can get?"

"Isn't he your cousin?" Kenley asked.

Dominique was unsure as to whether she was genuinely asking or trying to point out the obviousness of the situation. Her own kid cousin, the very same one who she'd flown around with when he was a toddler on a toy broom—helping him, encouraging him—was now trying to rip away the only thing at school she truly cared about. He was a little shit.

With her broom in hand, she turned to walk back toward the center of the pitch. She could hear Tommy call out, "Potter's just got done running a drill, he's got to be tired."

She nodded, but didn't respond. With a heavy breath, she picked her head up and walked as confidently as she could out to the center. There stood Jack and James; everyone else had backed away to the sides.

She turned her attention toward her cousin. He was actually taller than her now, by an inch or so, but his face was still very young looking. He looked the same as he did when he was a little boy. He smiled at her in an attempt to be friendly—as if trying to acknowledge that they were familiar—but she didn't return it. She wanted to smack that stupid smile off his face.

"Ok," said Jack. He almost seemed as if he wanted this less than she did. "Shall we do this?"

Dominique nodded, looking up to the sky to see if she could determine the wind direction. She needed to get into proper match mode now. She hadn't had any time to prepare.

"I'll go get the Snitch and release it. First one to catch it…" He didn't finish. He simply turned and walked over to the nearby box of Quidditch equipment.

"Good luck," said James as he mounted his broom.

"You're a right prat," Dominique said, unable to hide her annoyance with him any longer. "A Seeker? You want to be a Seeker now? You have to go after my spot? You'd already had the bloody Chaser position locked up!"

"I've always wanted to be a Seeker," James said in a low voice. He'd seemed a little stung at Dominique's hostile tone. "My dad was one."

"And your mum was a Chaser," she spat back. "A professional one. A bloody good one."

"Right," James mumbled. "It'd be hard to follow in her footsteps. I'd always be compared. Being a Seeker just seems like less pressure."

"So, you'd rather be compared to your father?" Dominique said. "As if you don't have your entire life to desperately try to live up to the expectations of being Harry Potter's son?"

James frowned. That one seemed to really sting him. "No matter what I do, I'm being compared to someone. Might as well play the position I like while I do it."

"Your dad wouldn't have done this," Dominique said as Jack returned holding the golden Snitch. "Your mum wouldn't either. I know neither of them would think this is a cool move on your part."

James stared at her, just as Jack asked, "You two ready?"

James and Dominique's eyes were locked onto each other as they both nodded. Dominique had to remember she had the advantage. She had the experience. Yes, James was fantastic on his broom with his speed and skill, but she was good, too. She'd caught more Snitches than she missed. She'd gotten a seven at the Quidditch Trials and been up against some of the best.

"Just imagine it's Giggleswick," Jack whispered to her before stepping back to position himself for release. Dominique always played hard, but she never played harder than against Giggleswick and Ravenclaw. Her hatred for him fueled her to push harder and fly faster. Knowing that Giggleswick would have a literal celebration if she got beat out of her position by a fourth-year...

She channeled that anger just as Jack released the Snitch. It flitted around for a moment, before quickly zipping up and out of sight. Dominique, with impressive speed, shot off the ground. Now it was time to tune everything else out and focus.

James had been quick as well, and was now doing large circles around the pitch, his eyes searching quickly around his surroundings. Dominique watched him. He was completely focused on finding the snitch that he was ignoring all the other key factors of proper Seeking. He had no idea as to where she was, which was dumb considering that knowing where the other Seeker was a huge factor in beating them.

She attempted to keep both an eye on him, but also sweep the pitch for any sign of the Snitch. She was still aggravated that this was even happening, but she couldn't focus on those emotions right now. She had to keep her eyes completely open on the off chance that James somehow managed to get the jump on her.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Nothing had happened until that eleventh minute, when suddenly, the sight of gold went streaking along toward the center of the pitch. She looked to see if James had seen it as well, which was a mistake because it cost her at least a few seconds. She wasn't sure if he had or not, but she got her answer soon enough as she went speeding toward it—noticed movement on his end as well. If this was a race to the Snitch, then she just had to get there first.

It was just there, a good twenty feet above the ground. There was no trickery or intricate dives needed. This was a race. A race she had to win. She could see him in her peripherals coming in quickly. She pushed herself harder and harder, attempting to hit the fastest speed she could handle while also maintaining control. She put her hand out but he was coming in quick. She had to get there first. He was right there.

Seconds later, it was over. James had somehow—someway—plucked up the Snitch and beaten her by seconds; the two narrowly avoiding a collision that he'd pulled away from at the last minute. He'd done it. He'd caught it.

Unlike when he'd finished his Chaser tryout, the applause for James was far more subdued this go around. He seemed to have a gang of friends and randoms who were excitedly cheering for him, but more people than not seemed positively shocked. As she landed, Dominique could just make out her teammates on the side. They were slack jawed, wide eyed, and utterly silent. She could see people's quiet conversations and whispers, their pointing, but she did nothing more than force herself to stand tall and walk as quick as she could—trying not to rush—to the far side of the stands and away from everyone.

She dropped her broom on the ground before throwing herself down onto the bench seat. Tears. She could feel them welling up, but she could let herself cry. Not here. Not in front of all these people. She never cried in public, even if this was her worst nightmare. She started biting the inside of her cheek as a means of distraction, but it wasn't working. She was trying so hard to keep up the appearance of not being completely devastated that she began to shake.

This was her everything. Her sole purpose for sucking up the classes and the people with their dumb bullshit problems here at Hogwarts. She cared about Quidditch more than she cared about most people, and now...it was gone. It seemed stupid and trivial to most, just a hobby, just a sport, but honestly, she didn't know if she could ever forgive James for taking this away from her. Life felt...over.

She sniffled and started digging her trainer into the ground, unsure as to how she was going to escape this without people gawking at her. The exit to the arena that led to the changing rooms was only twenty yards away, but it looked as if it would take hours to reach from where she sat. She couldn't just sit here, though. People were already staring.

Someone sat down beside her. She didn't dare look up for fear of what she would do when confronted. She wanted whomever it was to go the fuck away—mostly because she already heavily suspected who it was. She couldn't handle him right now; there were so many reasons she couldn't, but the biggest being that she couldn't handle the look on his face.

No one spoke. The silence was both deafening and welcomed since Dominique had absolutely nothing to say. She had dug a fairly decent sized divot with her trainer into the grass. At the rate she was going, she could probably dig herself out of this arena in about ten minutes.

From beside her, Jack took a deep breath. He leaned forward, his elbows now balancing on his thighs as he reached up to rub his face. Dominique could see this all in her peripherals, but for whatever reason, she chanced a look in his direction. He was looking straight ahead, completely lost in thought. His face was full of concern and disappointment; so many things that made Dominique immediately start to want to break down again. She and Jack had been on this journey together since they were twelve. This had been their team for so long, and this was supposed to be their final year. They were supposed to do it together.

"I can't," Dominique said, her voice cracking. "You need to go away, because I can't..."

"We can fix this," he said. He sounded far away.

"Seriously, Jack, not now," she said, not feeling as if she was going to be able to hold the tears back. She sniffled loudly and wiped her eyes. "There is nothing you can say—no shit story of how it'll all be ok. I don't want any of it. Not now. Just leave me alone."

He didn't say anything. He was quiet for so long that Dominique actually forced herself to look over at him to see that he hadn't slipped away when she wasn't looking. His gaze was across the pitch, over to where James was happily showing off the Snitch he'd just caught to his friends. For the first time since she'd lost, she suddenly didn't feel like crying. She felt like screaming.

"Cocky little shit, isn't he?" Jack asked quietly. He turned back toward her, though she refused to look at him. She hated that he saw her like this. She felt so defeated; so useless. Worst of all, she felt vulnerable. Being vulnerable around anyone made her chest hurt.

"I'll fix this," he said.

A few tears escaped down Dominique's cheek, which she immediately wiped away. "I don't see how. Unless you've got a time turner or a plan to break James' legs."

Jack once again looked from James to her. To his credit, she didn't feel pity coming off of him, and that much she could appreciate. At least he didn't pity her.

"I can ignore the challenge."

She let herself look back at him. "You cannot."

"Yes, I can," he said, though even he didn't sound sure. "It's my team. You're a seventh-year, seasoned player. You played in the fucking Trials and are a ranked Seeker. He's a fourth-year! No one with a brain would question that choice." He looked away. "You shouldn't even be allowed to challenge seventh-years. Who does that?"

"He beat me. It's the rules."

"Fuck the rules," he said. "The kid caught one Snitch. Who's to say he could do that in a match? You've proven yourself time and time again. You shouldn't have even had to do that. I shouldn't have even let it happen." He trailed off before mumbling. "I could catch one Snitch."

Dominique almost wanted to smile at seeing how hard Jack was willing to fight for her; to keep Quidditch alive for her. He knew how much it meant to her—if anyone knew, it was him.

He rubbed his face once more. "Nic, if I'm being honest, I can't do this without you."

She turned to look back down at her divot in the ground.

"I really can't," he continued. "Who else…?" He trailed off into silence, "Who else can I run things by? You're my bloody right hand. And I'm not even trying to be nice. I'm being honest. I need you."

She felt the tears flooding right back after she'd finally managed to squash them. As genuinely touched as she was by his words, she couldn't listen to this right now. It hurt too much. She cleared her throat. "Other than making me a Chaser, which would be a bad choice, I don't see how—"

"I ignore the challenge."

She shook her head. "He'll go to Longbottom and have it disputed."

He screwed up his face in thought. "I feel like Longbottom will understand. You're a seventh-year. You've proven yourself."

"Longbottom and I don't have the best track record," she said. "And he and the Potters go so far back, Jack. They're friends. They fought a bloody war together. He may understand, but I can't see him favoring me over him. Especially when the rules are clear."

He looked lost in thought again, absently watching James and his friends. "In that case, we make it Potter's decision."

"Fairly certain he's already made that decision."

He stood up, glancing briefly back at her before stepping toward the crowd ahead of them. "He needs to know his options."

With that, he set off across the pitch. Dominique watched him go, utterly unsure of where this was going. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but perhaps there was a chance? Could Jack actually somehow fix this? She'd already begun to mourn her Quidditch career here at school, but now that there was a glimmer of hope, she couldn't help but find herself terrified at the idea of having it all ripped away again.

"You alright?" came a voice that startled Dominique upon hearing it. She'd been so focused on Jack—-who was now ushering James away from his friends and off to the side to talk—that she hadn't even noticed that Eatins, Kenley, and Tommy had made their way down to where she sat. It was Eatins who had spoken.

Dominique didn't take her eyes off of Jack and James. "You know I'm not."

"He already annoys me," Tommy said. "I mean, not that you don't, but I've gotten used to you. It's a shame that sending Bludgers at your own teammates is frowned upon."

"You seem to be taking it better than I thought," said Kenley, observing Dominique as she side-eyed Tommy. "I honestly thought you'd be in hysterics."

She didn't look at her, though she silently told herself that if she stayed on this team, she would do everything in her power—and it would take _all_ her strength—to lay off Kenley this season. If that was the price she had to pay, so be it.

Jack and James were still talking, both of them glancing over her direction. Jack seemed to be doing almost all of the speaking; James was doing a lot of nodding as he listened. Dominique had only counted twice now where he'd spoken.

"What's Jack doing?" Tommy asked.

She didn't answer, for in that moment, Jack and James had stopped and turned toward the group of them. She stood up, more due to her pent up nervous energy rather than a real need to. This seemed to be the moment of truth.

"Hey," Jack said to their teammates. "Think we could get a minute?"

The three of them nodded or shrugged, each turning to walk back toward where there was still a decent amount of people congregating to wait for Jack's final Chaser selections. Jack watched them walk away before rounding back on both James and Dominique.

"So, I was just telling Potter here how he'd put me in a shit spot," he said, talking directly to James. "You won the challenge and you're entitled to the position according to the rules, but the thing is, I didn't need a Seeker. I have a fantastic Seeker." He gestured to Dominique. "What I needed was a Chaser—two of them, actually. And after your initial tryout, you were the best of this lot. There was no doubt you were making this team as a Chaser."

James stood silent. He seemed young next to Jack.

"I found two Chasers to fill the holes we had today," Jack continued. "And perhaps you weren't paying attention, but there were really only two standouts from the entire bunch. The rest were—let's be honest—rubbish. I found the two I needed. That would have given us three great Chasers on this team. But now things are muddled. Instead of three potentially great Chasers and a guaranteed great Seeker, I have maybe two Chasers. Then a third who would probably be terrible, and then a Seeker who may or may not know what he's doing. I'm also out a veteran player because you couldn't wait one year."

"I really wasn't trying to cause problems," James said. "I just wanted to play. Seeking and Chasing are my skills, so I wanted to be sure I'd get one." He looked at Dominique. "I didn't really think I'd beat you."

"I think you underestimate how good you are when you want to be," Dominique said. Her compliment had actually been sincere, though she had also hoped to soften James up a bit.

"This is my final year," Jack said, the authority from before gone and replaced with his more regular, calmer demeanor. "I need the best team possible. I need you to be a Chaser."

James pursed his lips. He seemed to be thinking it over. "Do I have to stay a Chaser? Can I try out for Seeker again next year?"

"Potter," said Jack. "The future captain of this team just saw what you can do out there as a Seeker. If you join this team, you're going to get to know them and you're going to talk to them. I don't think it's going to take much convincing. Depending on how well you do this season, I could maybe put your name in the hat to Longbottom as a potential captain replacement."

James' ears perked at this, but Dominique couldn't help but shoot Jack a look. Was he really promising him the opportunity to possibly make captain before he'd even played in his first match? Just so he could keep her on the team? He had to be kidding.

"You think that's a possibility?"

"Anything's possible," Jack said. "You've just got to have a great season and demonstrate the ability to be a proven team player. And the first step is to do what's best for the team today, which is to be the fucking Chaser I so desperately need right now."

She had to hand it to Jack. His diplomatic approach was impressive.

James met Dominique's eyes. "Are things going to be weird? After all of this?"

"They're going to be a lot weirder if you choose to be a Seeker."

"I'll also make you an alternate Seeker," Jack offered. "So, if anything happens to her, you're in."

James nodded slowly. "Look, I just want to be on the team."

"You're on it, then," Jack said. "I'll make the announcement that I've offered you a Chaser spot, and you just have to say—in front of everyone—that you accept that instead of the Seeker spot."

"Alright," he said, still nodding. "I can do that."

Jack gave James a pat on the back as he turned back to his friends. As soon as he did, Jack shot Dominique a smile and a wink, though she was already gaping at him. He'd done it. He'd actually fucking done it.

"I told you I'd fix it."

"Jack, you're...you're..." she stammered, now even sure how she could finish that sentence, but demonstrating all the restraint she could muster. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to jump up and down and scream in a celebratory sort of way. If it were up to her, she'd be jumping on her broom and flying to the moon.

He shrugged in a modest way and she had never in her life found anything more amazing and perfect then him at that moment. She would have married him right then and there had he asked. She'd never once in her life ever shown much interest in ever marrying someone, but there, at that exact moment in time, she'd have done it. Every feeling she'd ever had for him came flooding back tenfold, but she had to keep that in check. She was riding high on adrenaline and excitement. Don't do—or worse, say—anything stupid.

"I owe you," she finally said. "Honestly."

He smiled. "You'd have done the same for me."

"Tell you what, I won't argue with you about any dumb decisions you make this season. Whatever you say, I'll allow it. No pushback, I swear."

He gave a short laugh before he turned to walk back across the pitch. "Then I just wasted my time keeping you on this team."


	6. A Party Trick

Dominique had already been well aware that the rumor mill would be in overdrive after the events of that morning's tryouts, but even she was surprised at how much the news seemed to spread. She hadn't even made it to lunch without hearing at least four different accounts as to what happened. The first being that she threatened James Potter's life unless he gave up the spot; the second being that Jack had threatened to beat him up for screwing up the team; the third being that she'd put Jack under the Imperius Curse and been the one to make him threaten to beat James up; and the fourth being—and she lumped these rumors together as one—that she'd offered Jack multiple different kinds of sexual favors to keep herself from being booted off the team. Outside of the Imperius Curse rumor, none of them were even particularly creative.

Griffin Giggleswick legitimately cackled when she saw him at lunch; he made absolutely no attempt to hide it. She had a feeling that had she not been sitting with Louis, she would have gotten an earful, but as it were, he just kept loudly saying, "A fourth-year!" and laughing every few minutes.

"You can't make that stop?" Sarah asked Louis over lunch, watching as he spooned soup into his mouth. "He's doing it on purpose."

"I know, but he hasn't actually said anything to her," Louis said with a shrug. "Can't dock him points for laughing."

"It doesn't bother me," Dominique said as she pushed the liquid in her soup bowl around. "I expected it. And honestly, I deserve it."

She's anticipated these reactions from people. She didn't want to hear it, but she'd have probably had the same thoughts and comments had it happened to someone else. She was going to have to ride this out until the next big distraction came to sweep everyone up. It was just a matter of when that would happen.

Even later that day, when she and Sarah were walking toward the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, someone called out, "Weasley!" and she involuntarily groaned since she knew full well what was coming. It was Zara and Erin.

"Is it true?" asked Erin.

Dominique sighed. Nothing about her body language denied it.

Zara gaped and Erin looked completely gobsmacked. "He's a fourth-year," Zara said. "You should be able to beat a fourth-year in your sleep."

"Thanks for the input, Zara," Sarah said, throwing them both a very "fuck you" smile.

"Did Ians really threaten Potter?" Erin asked.

"No one threatened him," Dominique said in an exhausted tone. "James made his own choice."

"Course he did," Erin said, smirking a little. "Look, I get it, I'd have probably done the same thing if I were Jack. I'd have pulled every bloody string there was to keep my people around and not risk the shake up." She paused for a long moment. "That being said, it must be nice for your boyfriend to have your back like that."

"Not my boyfriend," she muttered.

"She's back with Davies now," Zara said, swatting Erin. "You can't say shit like that. It's rude."

"Oh, so sorry," Erin said, rolling her eyes. "My deepest apologies to Davies."

Dominique pushed past both of them toward the stairs, not wanting to continue listening to this for a minute more. She assumed Sarah had followed her, though that wasn't confirmed until they were roughly halfway up the stairs.

"Speaking of Davies, have you heard from him lately?"

Dominique laughed. "I thought he was supposed to be dead to you? You weren't even going to mention his name?"

"Yes," Sarah agreed. "But that was before I realized that he was also going to be dead to you. I assumed he would be more of a factor."

She rolled her eyes. She was fairly certain she'd been telling people since the start of their relationship that this behavior was exactly how things would be; it was how she wanted things to be. When would they realize? "No, I haven't heard from him."

"Go figure," she muttered, before she suddenly let her tone grow brighter. "But, hey, it was really amazing of Jack to help move mountains to keep you on the team."

"He asked James to reconsider," she said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly grateful, but I'd hardly call it moving mountains."

"Still," she said in an open ended sort of way. "It was really thoughtful. Not everyone would do that."

Dominique turned to look at her. What exactly was she trying to say?

"I mean, do you think Davies would have done that? Do you think he would have put that much effort into anything for you? He can't even write you a bloody letter."

"I don't need a letter. And he wouldn't have to try and keep me on his team because we weren't ever on the same team—"

Sarah stared at her as if she were an idiot, already looking exhausted by this conversation. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"I'm not impossible," she said, even laughing a bit, "I'm wondering what you're playing at."

"What I'm playing at," Sarah said as they reached the portrait hole and quickly muttered the password to enter Gryffindor Tower, "is that you've got one person who you haven't spoken to in ages, but you're supposedly in a relationship with. Then you've got this other person who you're not in a relationship with, but spend all your time with and he goes above and beyond for you and—"

"Oh, now I see where you're going with this..."

"And I also think the feelings between the two of you are mutual, though neither of you will say shit about it because you're both ridiculous."

Dominique slowed a little at the comment as they reached the dormitory stairs. "What's he done to make you think that?"

She shrugged, which wasn't exactly reassuring. "Because I know him. I can tell. He also literally saved your Quidditch career today, which, I mean, as far as grand gestures of affection go—"

"Stop," she said as they climbed the stairs toward their shared room. "He helped me because when it comes to Quidditch, we're practically old married."

"Interesting choice of words."

"It's a Quidditch thing," Dominique said, shaking her head as she threw the door to their room open. "I'm not going to get into it, but we work well together. He'd have done what he did today whether this summer happened or not. It's not because you think he's caught feelings." She rounded back on her. "And honestly, it's rather insulting for you to reduce our partnership and my abilities for the last four years down to the idea that he might have a bloody crush on me and wants to keep me around."

Sarah stared at her, looking rather startled. "I never meant it like that. You know, I didn't. Obviously you've earned your place, and obviously Jack respects you. I only maybe thought—"

"Then get off it," Dominique said, walking over to her bed. "Jack heard I had feelings for him and did nothing about it. If he felt the same way—and he's never given me any reason to think so—he had his open and he didn't take it. It's done. It's over. I don't even feel that way about him anymore."

Sarah's expression didn't seem to believe that, but she knew better than to say anything to the contrary. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Dominique turned away and pulled herself onto her bed. She'd been lying, of course, to save face. It wasn't over—she still had feelings for him—though they came in waves now. When he wasn't around, she didn't lose sleep over him; however, there were instances where she could easily spend an afternoon doing homework with him and suddenly feel pangs of attraction when she'd catch him smile or they shared a mutual look.

She didn't dwell on these moments and tried to ignore them, but that was proving to be hard when incidents like today happened. Today out on the pitch, she'd been actually overwhelmed by her feelings for him. It had been a bit frightening because she'd never felt anything like that before.

She needed to give herself time to recover—to calm down and get a grip. Sarah had called it a grand gesture of affection, and while that may be true, she was coming at it from the wrong direction. It was a grand gesture of platonic affection, nothing more. Dominique hadn't been lying when she said that Jack had never once given her any indication to believe that he felt anything more than respect and friendship for her. He cared about her, she didn't doubt it, but if he felt more he'd have said something; done something. But nothing had changed. They were exactly the same as they'd always been, which honestly Dominique was thankful for. Things could be a lot weirder.

The Goblet of Fire had arrived the following day, and in the week that followed, it proved to be the distraction that Dominique had hoped for.

It's arrival had caused quite a stir, with everyone in the school clamoring around it to get a closer look. The age line that had been drawn around kept all of the younger students from getting within five feet of it, but the older ones could get close. They could walk right up and examine its ornate details and majestic presence. As much as she hated the bloody idea of the thing, even she took a turn to look it over—though not until days after it had arrived; once most of the initial hysteria had worn off. People had assumed she was going to place her name inside, and some even gave her a little cheer of encouragement, but they'd quickly realized their assumption was incorrect once she stepped away and rolled her eyes at them.

Flynn had entered the first night, and he'd gotten the honor of being the first person to do so. Since then she'd seen almost everyone else who was eligible do the same. One by one all the Hufflepuffs eventually did. The Ravenclaws only had one holdout, Giggleswick, who had no interest since he—like Jack—was more interested in the Quidditch season than the tournament. Slytherin only had one holdout until yesterday, when Zara—who had also been on the fence due to her Quidditch potential—finally decided to enter.

Gryffindor seemed to have the most holdouts. She and Jack had declined, while Sarah claimed she'd do it if Louis did. For once, Dominique was not immediately annoyed at the idea of Sarah doing something for Louis' benefit, if his lack of participation meant she wouldn't be entering either. Sarah may not have been at the tip-top of their class, but she was top ten and excellent in her practical use of magic. She could be a top choice if her name went in there.

Then there was Louis, who everyone expected to enter and seemed rather shocked that he hadn't. There seemed to be two groups of people—the ones who wanted Louis to enter since they thought he had the best shot, and the ones who didn't want him to enter because it allowed someone else to have a chance. With not much time left to make the choice, people were starting to wonder if he really was holding out.

"Well, look at that," Louis said one morning as he sat across the breakfast table from his sister, reading over a letter he'd received from Victoire. "Hell has frozen over because you and Vic agree on something."

Dominique looked up from her own letter that she'd received from her sister that morning. In it, Victoire has asked about school and said she'd heard about Quidditch tryouts—which made Dominique immediately question how fast news traveled. She followed with writing that she'd heard the story of her apparently offering Jack sexual favors, but that she obviously didn't believe it. Dominique noticed there was a lingering sort of question hanging over her writing, as if she was hoping she would confirm that for her to be sure.

But the latter part of her letter focused on the tournament and how she wondered where her head was. Victoire claimed she wouldn't have entered after the things mum had told them; how it was dangerous and, while the payoff seemed glamorous, it ultimately was unremarkable. Mum was worried sick over the idea and dad wasn't particularly keen, but didn't say much one way or the other. Dominique was finally happy to see someone else get it, but Victoire was preaching to the choir when it came to her. She wasn't the one that needed convincing.

"She says mum's worried," Dominique said to Louis.

"Mum's always worried. What else is new?

"Why won't you say one way or another what you're planning on doing?" she asked, glancing over toward the Goblet that sat in the corner of the Great Hall.

Louis shrugged as he also looked at it. "You know, a lot of good stuff came out of mum's tournament."

"Such as?"

"She met dad. Had she not entered, she'd have never come to England and never met dad and we wouldn't exist. And, you got to meet Viktor Krum because of it."

She laughed at that one. While his first point was valid, his second was an absolute reach. She was pretty sure her life wouldn't have been the slightest bit different had Viktor Krum not come around their house once years ago.

"Think about it," Louis said. "Had mum stayed in France, she'd probably be just like Aunt Gabrielle."

"Rich and cool?"

"And out of touch and a snob," he added, "Don't get me wrong, I love her but let's not act like Aunt Gabrielle isn't chewing people up and spitting them out left and right."

"Which is what makes her cool."

"The tournament changed mum's life entirely. Instead of being any other rich girl in France married to some dress robe, she came here, met dad, had us, and now they live their grounded little cottage life."

"And is that something you want?" Dominique asked. "For the entire course of your life to potentially change?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Who knows what the course of my life is? All I know that some people think they have it figured out, but what if I want something different?"

She stared at him as if attempting to get inside his head. Louis—the golden boy, the favorite, the perfect one, the person who almost anyone in the school would have traded places with—wanted things to change? To what? He had everything, and what he didn't have he'd have soon enough. What was there left to want?

Louis threw her a look once he noticed her staring. "Stop trying to read me."

"I'm not. And even if I was, it never works."

He laughed. "That's a lie. You're the only one who can."

He'd been referring to in general—how she could sense his moods and his energy and almost always tell what he was thinking based on that. She'd been talking referring to literally reading his mind—which she'd tried to do over the years.

She'd gotten the idea from her Uncle George, who had once told her that there were times that he and his twin brother, Fred, could actually finish each other's sentences and have entire conversations without saying a word because of how in tune they were. Dominique never felt she and Louis were quite on that level, despite being able to feel what the other one was feeling.

The only exception was a stupid number game the two played constantly as children—and still sometimes today. It was a party trick of sorts, but one would pick and number one through ten and the other could always guess it. As long as they looked directly in the other's eyes, the number would always just come to them. It didn't work if they weren't looking at each other.

"Just tell me if you're going to enter so I know."

"If I decide to, I'll tell you."

They stared at each other, neither breaking eye contact. If he really was telling the truth and hadn't made up his mind, he was clearly leaning toward yes. She could only hope something would make him see it wasn't worth it. But, like her, if he had his mind made up, it was a done deal. Louis Weasley accomplished whatever it was he set out to do.

She blinked first, suddenly holding up four fingers underneath the table where he couldn't see, "What number am I thinking of?"

He grinned and immediately began squinting at her as if that somehow sharpened his gaze. "We haven't done this in awhile. I may be a bit rusty."

"If you don't know…"

"Four," he said, not missing a beat. "It's four."

She held her four fingers up and smiled at him, which allowed him a celebratory fist pump. "That's what? 9,000 correct guesses? Got to be a record."

"A record no one but us gives a shit about."

He shrugged. "We're all that matters anyway."

The notice went up on the first of October that champions would be chosen on the evening of the third, which was a Wednesday and also Jack's eighteenth birthday. It gave everyone two more days to enter—and by everyone, she meant Louis and Sarah seeing as they were the only two people left who hadn't entered who were still bothering to consider it.

Dominique heard them constantly talk about it when they assumed she wasn't listening. She could never quite catch what their heads were, but she had picked up on the fact that Sarah also believed Louis to be a fairly obvious choice. He being chosen meant he would be away and put into potentially dangerous situations; which was well and good if she was also chosen and they could do it together, but it was a problem if she wasn't. It was the biggest issue that they both seemed to have—whether entering and being separated was worth the risk.

Dominique's gut told her that Louis was going to ultimately do it. Her brother wasn't one to sit out a challenge because it may be too difficult or ruffle some feathers—even if those feathers belonged to his family or girlfriend. He'd seemed even more intrigued once the schedule of events for the tournament was released. The champions would first travel to Durmstrang around mid-October and return before the holiday break in mid-December. The date of the First Task was still unknown—it was left up to the discretion of the host school— but it had to fall somewhere between those two dates. Dominique had tried to make it sound terribly unappealing to her brother by stressing how cold it would be at the northern and frigid Durmstrang, but he hadn't seemed fazed in the least.

Next was the Beauxbatons' task, which champions would leave for in mid-January. The schedule had them returning by March, but again, specified no date for the task. Dominique wondered if this meant that champions could potentially return early if the task was somehow completed earlier than the end date, but she quickly realized there was no point in worrying about any of this unless she had to. As of now she didn't have to.

The Hogwarts challenge was last, and would take place between April and the end of the school term. There was still no word as to what Hogwarts was planning for their task, though rumors were circulating all over the school, each as ridiculous as the next.

When the morning of the 3rd finally came around, everyone in the school was absolutely buzzing. Even the professors were having mercy on them, seeing as their assigned work wasn't nearly as awful as usual. Professor Ivanson in Transfiguration joked that he knew everyone would be so hyped up on the tournament picks that giving them homework would just be cruel—so instead he assigned fifty pages of reading. That was apparently his idea of a break.

"Happy birthday to me," Jack joked, slamming his Transfiguration textbook shut. "My six hours of homework went down to five. Now I've got time to party."

Dominique hadn't gotten Jack a present on her own, though she, Louis, and Sarah had all contributed money to buying Jack a new Ballycastle Bats—his favorite Quidditch team—jersey. He'd been thrilled and very appreciative, though Dominique still felt she should have done something more personal.

She'd gone through her trunk and dug out the hat he'd been given for playing in the Premier match at the Trials—the same hat he'd asked her to hold onto—and presented it to him over breakfast. He'd seemed surprised to see it.

"You told me to hold onto it until we got back to school," she said, holding it out to him. "We're back at school."

He took it, turning it over in his hands before smiling. "I'd forgotten about this."

"Good, then pretend it's a proper birthday present," she joked, helping herself to some food.

"You shouldn't have," he said as he set it down on the table and glanced over to her. "I still say it looks better on you than me, though."

She caught his eye at that and smiled a little, which he did as well. It was a strange moment where she didn't know whether to blush or tell him to shut up. She was also highly aware of the fact that due to the way they were sitting, both of their elbows were touching as they rested their arms on the table.

"Hey," came Louis' voice, cutting immediately through Dominique's thoughts and snapping her back to reality. He had just sat down across from them both. "I need to talk to you."

Jack sat up straighter before returning to his breakfast while Dominique found herself blinking. "Hey. Hi. What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I just wanted to tell you I'm doing it. I'm entering."

She stared at him; everything from her face to her shoulders to her posture slumped. It was Jack who spoke, "Really?"

"I've gone back and forth," Louis continued. "And back and forth and back and forth and, fuck it. Yeah, I'm going to do it."

"When?"

"Right now," Louis said, holding up a small piece of paper with his name on it. "As soon as I'm done having this conversation." He looked down at the tabletop and picked up the white hat before smirking. "You actually gave it back to him. I didn't think you would."

"Louis," Dominique said.

"I know you don't approve," Louis interjected as he set the hat back down. "I know you think I'm mental given everything mum's gone through, but I wrote to mum and asked her for her advice. And you know what she said?"

"Apparently something encouraging."

"Not particularly. But she didn't talk me out of it. She said no one could stop her from entering and she knew she couldn't stop me." He looked her in the eyes. "Nic, there's no Voldemort this time. It's going to be different."

She looked away. Obviously he would say that, but he had no idea. None whatsoever.

"Sarah going to, too," he said as he stood up, clutching his little piece of paper. "Maybe we'll both be chosen. Guess we'll find out tonight, won't we?"

With that, he walked straight over to the Goblet, catching the attention of the entire room as he did so. Heads were turning and whispers were now carrying throughout as he easily crossed the age line and dropped his little sheet of paper into the blazing blue cup. Dominique and Jack were both watching his every step, as were so many of the other students in the Great Hall—some of whom started clapping. Louis Weasley had entered the tournament.


	7. The Chosen Ones

The day of the selection seemed to drag on forever once Louis had entered.

Wednesday was already one of Dominique's busier days with three classes and Quidditch, but every single class seemed to take ages. Even Quidditch practice felt as though it lasted far longer than usual. It didn't help that she was playing like shit given how preoccupied she felt.

Jack took it easy on her—whether that was because he knew she was concerned about Louis or because he was just in a good mood about his birthday. Tommy had somehow gotten a hold of a package of some popular Muggle biscuit brand that Jack had apparently told him he was fond of. He'd brought them to practice and given them to him, which had put a smile on Jack's face that Dominique couldn't help find completely adorable. She wished she'd had thought of it first.

She showered and dressed after practice, walking downstairs to find a very crowded Great Hall that reminded her of the first day of term. Each table was filled almost to capacity and the noise level was louder than usual which, like the first day, meant there was something to talk about. The Goblet of Fire sat front and center near the head table, a blue hued glow touching everything within its direct line of contact.

It took her a minute to find her friends about halfway down the table. Louis and Sarah were sitting on one side, while Jack was on the other with Flynn and Natalie—those two looking rather chummy. They were also sandwiched between a large group of fifth-years that included Eatins and Flynn's younger brother, Flyer.

Dominique wandered down toward her brother, though it was Sarah who noticed her first and waved her over. She was already demanding one of Flyer's little friends to shove down to make room, which seemed to be a challenge considering everyone was packed in like sardines. While the kid in question was attempting to move, no one else seemed to want to. It wasn't until Dominique turned and snapped, "Move!" to the entire lot of them that suddenly bums were sliding down the length of the bench.

"Way to get things done," Louis joked as she sat down beside him.

"Had to get the best seat possible to watch this shit show," she said, throwing him a tired look. "What's for dinner?"

"Shepherd's Pie," he said, though she noticed he'd barely touched his. She wasn't particularly hungry herself, and probably for the same reasons Louis wasn't, but she knew she had to eat. If her brother's name came out of the Goblet, she'd need all the strength she could muster.

Sarah was talking a lot. She rambled all through dinner and through pudding. There was a nervous energy about her. Unlike Louis—who seemed to shut down and grow quieter—Sarah had a habit of talking more. It was as if she was afraid of the silence and lulls when she was anxious, though they never seemed to bother her when she wasn't. Dominique almost wanted to ask her what she was more nervous about—her chances or Louis'.

Everyone else was acting mostly normal, if not a little excited. Flynn was acting like a King at court with the fifth-years and Natalie was hanging off his every word. He was fantasizing what it would be like to be chosen and just what challenges he felt he'd excel at; what he thought may be his weaknesses. Dominique wanted to point out that all of his O.W.L. scores had been much like hers—average at best—and his weaknesses probably outranked his strengths, but it would have been cruel to blow up his spotlight in front of his little fan club. After all, perhaps the Goblet really did have a sense of humor and he could be chosen.

"Did all of you enter?" Flyer asked them, though his gaze was on Sarah. "Sar, did you end up finally doing it?"

She nodded. "Today. Just made it. Louis did, too."

There was a murmur of excitement and general sorts of comments from the fifth-years about how they felt Louis had a great shot or how their money would be on him. Sarah threw Flyer a look. "There are two champions. How about the rest of us?"

"I was just going according the odds list," Flyer said, referring to that dumb list that had been made ranking the odds of all the seventh-years. "Louis' at 2-1. He's got the best in the school." He then snapped his fingers at one of his friends. "I'm pretty sure Layla has a copy of the list. Don't you?"

The girl called Layla produced a piece of parchment out of her robe pocket and handed it to Flyer. He handed it to Sarah, who laid it on the table. Dominique craned her next to get a better look. Down the length of it, names of seventeen-year olds throughout the school were neatly written with various numbers scribbled beside them—their odds of them being chosen. For some individuals, the numbers looked as if they'd been scribbled and rewritten multiple times. For others—such as her brother—a clean and single inked number stood unmarked.

"8-1 on me," Sarah said, seemingly unsure of what to make of that. "Could have been worse, I suppose." She continued scanning the page. "None of the girls seem to be a sure thing."

That was true. None of the girls had clear cut odds. Sarah, along with Lira Chin in Ravenclaw, a girl called Beverly Pushkin in Hufflepuff, and Zara Zabini in Slytherin all had odds that were close together. For the boys, Louis' odds were without a doubt the best, with Reggie Avery of Slytherin and Ansel Baileymoore of Ravenclaw in a distant second and third. Dominique wasn't sure she agreed with that. Reggie, perhaps, but she could never picture Ansel fighting a dragon. Being eaten by one, sure, but not fighting.

"Dare I ask what I ended up with?" asked Dominique, chancing a glance over her brother's shoulder to where her name sat directly on top of his thanks to someone arranging it in alphabetical order. She noticed she was one of those people whose name had a number scribbled out and replaced with another number. In her case, the new number was 30-1. She couldn't tell if that was worse or better than before.

"I heard somewhere that being a Triwizard legacy got you better odds," Flyer chirped. "Which is probably why Louis' pretty unstoppable right now. Only you two have that going for you."

"So I've got 30-1 odds and that's with the added bonus of being a legacy?" She laughed. "People have very little faith in me."

"What'd I get?" Jack asked.

"10-1," said Louis.

Jack made a face as if to say he was fine with that, just as Eatins suddenly asked, "Did you decide to enter after all?"

He shook his head. "No. Too much riding on Quidditch this year, you know?"

Eatins seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "I was going to say, what would happen to the team if you got picked? We'd need a new captain."

Dominique's ears perked at that. "We would, wouldn't we? I'd probably have to step up." She smirked at Jack. "You know, I think you should enter after all. There's still time if you go right now."

"I love how all your fears about death and danger go out the bloody window if it means you might get to be Quidditch captain," Louis muttered. "Ruthless."

"I'm saying…" Jack said, shaking his head at her. "Good to know where I stand."

"I only said it because I knew you didn't actually enter."

"Would you have even been the first choice for captain?" Flynn asked. "I mean, you almost got booted off the team a few weeks ago by a fourth-year, so—"

Dominique glared at him. Beside her, Louis inhaled razor sharply, now looking at Flynn as if he was a dead man. Sarah, too, was shaking her head—silently warning him to stop talking. Jack's eyes had gone straight to her, as if wondering what she would do, but he quickly turned his gaze onto Flynn and said, "You better hope your name gets picked because right now that's the far safer option than sitting at this table."

Even from several seats down, she could clearly hear Eatins say, "Ooohh, you're going to die."

"Anyway!" Natalie said, clearly attempting to change the subject. "Hey, isn't it Jack's birthday? Shouldn't we sing? No one's sang yet."

Jack had been vehemently opposed to that, not that it stopped anyone from actually doing it. They all did sing him a quick happy birthday—which had started out small, but grew to include many of the random people surrounding them who decided to join in. It spread far enough around that several people at the other house tables were craning their necks in their direction to see what the fuss was about and looking to see whose birthday it was. By the end, Jack had turned pink and looked as if he wanted to slump under the table, though he did manage a begrudged sounding, "Thanks," before the lighting in the room suddenly dimmed substantially. The empty plates and glasses that had been in front of them disappeared in an instant to reveal spotless, empty table tops. Just like that, everyone in the room immediately looked toward the front of the room.

"Here we go," Flynn said.

Dominique could feel Louis take a deep breath, his eyes now glued to the Goblet at the front of the room. His energy had changed completely from moments before; Dominique could feel it. He was anxious.

People were starting to shuffle around the room to get a better view. Some—like Louis, Sarah, and herself—were turning around in their seats to face the aisles, others were standing and moving back against the walls. People were trying to stand and sit on the tables, but we're being yelled at and told to get down by their peers who were behind them. There was a lot of chatter until Professor McGonagall entered from the opposite side of the room and made her way past the students toward the front of the head table. The room grew quiet in an instant, as if all the noise had been sucked out on purpose. Behind her, several other professors took their seats behind the long table. Professor McGonagall stood in front of them all; the Goblet of Fire to her right still glowing brightly.

"Good evening," McGonagall said, addressing the room and seemingly pleased she didn't have to call anything to order. "I see you're all quite ready to choose our champions."

Some whispers. Some cheers. Some laughter—both excited and nervous. Numerous glances around the room. People were now standing to get a better look; craning their necks in an anticipatory way.

"As you know," McGonagall continued. "The rules for the Tri-School Wizarding Championship are different from past events. This year, all schools, including Hogwarts, will be selecting two champions—both a male and a female.

"To be chosen as a champion and a representative of Hogwarts is a high honor," McGonagall said, looking out upon the sea of students in front of her. "And I have nothing but the highest expectations for our future champions that they will make Hogwarts proud both inside and outside of this competition."

There was applause throughout the room. Louis looked up at the ceiling, almost as if he was trying to see through it. Others may not have seen it, but this was a tic of his. Whenever Louis felt a bit overwhelmed, he seemed to always start scanning the room for imaginary exits. He confessed this to Dominique once when they were children. For some reason, up was always the first direction he tended to look. He'd never told her why that was.

"This time tomorrow, the names of all the champions should be known, and we will know exactly what we're up against," McGonagall continued, just as Dominique suddenly noticed a handful of unfamiliar faces standing near the back of the room. They hadn't been there earlier—she would have remembered. Two of them—a man with a large moustache and a woman—were dressed very well, as if they were official in some capacity. The other two—also a man and woman, though younger—were more casually dressed. The man had bewitched a quill to scribble on a nearby piece of parchment that was floating beside him; his eyes were darting from McGonagall to the page as if monitoring the progress of what was being recorded. The woman held a camera, but looked rather bored.

"To everyone who has entered their names, good luck to you. With that said, if we are all ready…"

The Great Hall erupted into cheers. All around, people were discussing last minute speculations, pointing at various people, clapping, yelling. Her mother had mentioned time and time again that the tournament made things change—that it would change the entire tone of the school year. Already, this was proving to be more than true.

McGonagall waited for the room to quiet as Professor Flitwick stood atop the Head table with his arms outstretched, motioning for everyone to calm themselves. It took a minute or so, but finally the noise started to dissipate. It wasn't until McGonagall raised her wand to the Goblet and it glowed the brightest it had all evening that silence completely swept the Hall.

Dominique glanced at her brother, which wasn't hard to do considering he was sitting between her and her view of the Goblet. His eyes were completely locked forward, despite Sarah chancing quick glances back at him. It was clear that everyone in school thought he was an obvious choice, but up until that moment, Dominique suspected that he didn't truly believe it. Sitting there now though, the look in eyes wasn't one of curiosity or hope like so many others in the room—it was a look of expectancy. He looked as if he was readying himself, as one would do when they knew their name was quickly approaching as morning attendance was being taken.

His nerves were also evident; his knee bouncing up and down rhythmically. Sarah was absently holding his one hand, though his other was mildly fidgeting. Dominique felt a pull to do something; to show him he was alright in case he'd gotten a little too lost in his head right now. She reached out and gave his arm a light pinch. That action seemed to startle him, but it also made him turn away from the Goblet to look at her. She quickly smiled at him; he looked curious, but smiled right back.

Roughly a minute had passed before a small sheet of parchment shot straight out of the Goblet and up into the air. There were audible gasps throughout the room as the paper fluttered slowly back down to where McGonagall used her wand to direct it into her open hand. At that moment, Dominique had never heard a room full of people be so silent.

McGonagall adjusted her glasses and took her time to read it over. With a quick nod before she spoke, "Our first champion, our female champion—"

Louis exhaled visibly.

"Zahara Zabini."

An echo of screams and cheers rang out, particularly in the direction of the Slytherin table where the tall and willowy Zara emerged from below a pile of hugs and pats on the back. The Slytherins were going absolutely mental as they now watched their champion walk straight up to the front of the room, where a waiting McGonagall stood smiling back at her. Zara was beaming and, for once in her life, looked rather nervous. She had always been the type to walk into a room with her head held high, no matter the circumstances. She was doing her best to hide it; the smile never once faltering from her pretty face.

Sarah was clapping slowly, her expression sad as she looked back at Louis and shrugged in a "it wasn't meant to be" sort of way. He gave her leg a quick squeeze and whispered something in her ear. Dominique knew one thing now—she finally had an ally in hoping that Louis' name didn't come out of that Goblet.

Someone swatted her on the back, and when she turned, Jack was leaning well across the table, practically lying across it. She looked at him curiously.

"You know what this means?" he said excitedly, gesturing to Zara. She turned to look at her, confused at first, but like a Bludger to the head, she realized that if Zara was now in the tournament, she wouldn't be available to play Quidditch. Without Zara, Slytherin's Chasing team would be destroyed. She'd already seen at the Trials that Erin was entirely too dependent on Zara, her go-to partner. She had been the highest ranked Chaser in Hogwarts.

She spun back around and gawked at Jack, their eyes locking immediately. He was grinning at her in a very knowing way. "Zara's won't be around for the season."

"Slytherin's done," she whispered.

He was nodding. "The path to the cup just got that much easier." He smiled. "I cannot believe that just happened."

Dominique laughed, though she immediately began searching the Slytherin table for Erin. In all the commotion it took her a bit to find her, but once she had, she noticed that she was smiling. It was tight; almost forced. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her body language was very stand-offish. She had to be going through a lot right now. Zara was her best friend, she'd outranked her at the Trials, she'd gotten picked here today, she'd just left her Quidditch team without a backup plan, and essentially just tanked their entire season. If Dominique were her, there'd be some definite resentment mixed in with all that anxiousness.

"Settle down, settle down," McGonagall began to shout. "We've still got one more name to—"

The Goblet didn't hesitate a moment more. With a burst of light, another piece of parchment came shooting out into the air. Fluttering slowly down to and into McGonagall's hand. Once again, she read the name to herself before nodding again and addressing the crowd.

"Our second champion, the male champion—"

Dominique watched Louis. Sure, he was the obvious choice, but perhaps the Goblet didn't go for obvious. Perhaps it looked for something different. Perhaps another name would be called and Louis would be free of this mess and the year and their plans could go back to being normal. They could all watch someone else deal with this and they could spend their time worrying about another person instead of her brother. Perhaps someone else's name came out and Dominique could actually semi enjoy watching this tournament instead of wondering every night whether some terrible fate lay ahead for Louis as it did for Cedric. Perhaps she wouldn't have to worry about her brother having even worse nightmares than the ones he was already plagued with.

"Louis Weasley."

Dominique felt like she'd been hit in the stomach—not hard, and not to the point of sickness, but enough to make her happy she was sitting down. The room went mad again with cheers and applause. It seemed even louder than Zara's, or maybe that was because Dominique was now directly surrounded by Gryffindors who were yelling at the top of their lungs.

Louis, prior to the announcement of his name, had averted his eyes to the ground before closing them entirely. Once it had become official, he'd smiled to himself before picking his head up and grinned in his practically perfect, but oh-so-humble way that he did when he was once again the center of attention for an accomplishment. From beside him, Sarah was smiling in a nervous way; squeezing his hand and looking as if she didn't want to let go. Even across the aisle, where many of the Ravenclaw's were cheering and reaching over to pat Louis on the back and shoulder, Griffin Giggleswick was even clapping—albeit, slowly.

Dominique had been in a sort of trance upon actually hearing Louis' name, so her reaction was more to simply sit there with a forced sort of smile. She watched as he stood from his seat and gave Sarah a hug, he reached across the table to slap hands with Jack, and Flynn, and several other randoms who happened to be within arms' reach. Just before he began his trek up to the front of the room, he turned to Dominique. When their eyes met, she snapped out of her trance, stood, and made sure her smile stayed plastered onto her face. All the while, she couldn't help but stare at him as if to say, " _So, it begins…"_

He leaned forward to speak directly into her ear. "It'll be alright."

As he pulled away, he smiled and winked at her. As she watched him walk off, she couldn't help but wonder who the hell he was trying to fool here. Did he actually just wink at her? Did he somehow forget she was impervious to his charm? The wanker. Maybe a dragon should eat him.

"Congratulations to both of our Champions!" McGonagall said after Louis had joined Zara at the front of the room. "I could not be more pleased with these two choices and know you will serve Hogwarts honorably. Now, if the two of you would just…"

McGonagall was gesturing off to the side, where the four strangers from earlier had moved now that the school had official champions to dote upon. They were evidently waiting for Louis and Zara to exit and join them.

"As for the rest of you," McGonagall continued, returning to address the group while Louis and Zara were ushered off somewhere, "there will be plenty of information about the tournament coming to light soon. I know you are eager, and when we have that information we will share it. Until then, classes and functions will carry on as normal."

With that, the ceremony was over and the room began to empty out in one large wave of people all headed toward the doors. Dominique stood to follow the crowd, happy that it was moving in such a way that she didn't have to think much about doing anything other than following it. She glanced back at Sarah, whose face spoke volumes about her state of mind. She looked worried and disappointed, but mostly anxious. When she caught Dominique watching, she forced a smile.

"I shouldn't be surprised. He was clearly the favorite."

"Are you surprised?"

"No. A little sad. I can't tell him that, though."

"I'd hope you're past the point where you can't be honest with him about that sort of thing," Dominique offered as they passed through the doors and watched half the school go one way while the other half headed toward the stairs. At that very moment, someone came and interested themselves between Sarah and herself, slinging their arms around both of their shoulders.

"You two doing alright, then?" Jack asked, staring from one to the other.

Sarah sighed and said nothing, though Dominique shrugged and murmured, "Can't worry about what I can't change."

Jack dropped his arms and stepped in front of them, turning around to walk backwards for a few steps. "This is Lou we're talking about. When has he not come out on top?"

"Sometimes I wish he didn't always have to be on top," Sarah muttered.

Dominique threw her a funny look, noticing that Jack too seemed to have had his mind go to the same—clearly perverted—place. He was the one who followed with, "If that's a sex thing, then you two need to have a conversation about—"

"No, it's not a sex thing," Sarah said, reaching out to swat at him. "I was actually talking about his need to always be the bloody best at everything. Sometimes it would be nice if he could just be happy with normal."

"But being the best is Louis' normal," said Dominique as they followed the crowds up the stairs.

Louis didn't return for a long time. In the common room, Dominique had sat down to do some homework to pass the time, but her focus wasn't anywhere to be found. It didn't help that Sarah was actually pacing around in a jumpy way, glancing at the portrait hole every other minute to check and see if it was opening.

"What do you think he's doing?" she asked for the tenth time in the two hours they'd been back.

"Again, he's probably having rules and what not explained to him," Dominique said as she shut her Runes book after having read the same page multiple times without retaining a single piece of information. This was pointless.

Sarah ignored her, her thoughts still obviously elsewhere. "I wonder when he's going to have to leave." Her tone was growing more anxious with each passing minute. It was almost strange how fidgety Sarah had gotten compared to how calm Dominique felt. Just this morning, she'd been convinced that it would have been her pacing the room in a nervous way while Sarah talked her off the ledge. It seemed that the initial euphoria had worn off and she was starting to realize the reality of what she was facing. Louis would be gone for months at a time. He'd be facing grave dangers and powerful magic. He was competing in something that could possibly hurt, if not kill him. He'd be spending most of his seventh and final year of school away. He'd be meeting new people from all over the continent. This hadn't seemed so bad when there was a chance she could share it with him, but now that she couldn't, she didn't seem keen at all.

"I'm sure he'll know soon enough," said Dominique, glancing across the room toward the unofficial seventh-year sitting area. It was there that Jack, Flynn, Natalie, and even Eleanor had taken over the best sofa and most comfortable chairs in the common room. She stood and walked over, to which Sarah followed her without question.

If Dominique didn't already know, the fact that Sarah walked straight over to where Natalie was currently sitting and didn't bother to purposely avoid her showed just how preoccupied she currently was. Neither acknowledged the other, but even Natalie seemed a bit surprised to see her so casually appear.

Dominique went to the sofa and nudged Jack—who was lying across it and taking up the entire length himself—to sit up, which he did without argument. She plopped down beside him and Sarah beside her.

"So, what'd you think your mum's going to say about all this?" Jack asked.

Dominique shrugged. "She won't be happy, but she understands the allure of it all and the prestige of being chosen. It's strange. She always said that if she could do it all over again, she doesn't think she would. But if she never did it, she never would have come to England and she never would have met my dad. She never would have moved here to be with him and who knows where she'd be today. Who knows where I'd be?"

"You'd probably be at Beauxbatons," Natalie offered. "Louis, too. And knowing him, he'd probably still be getting chosen as a champion."

"If we even exist," she muttered. "Twins run on my dad's side of the family, not my mum's." She stopped to think about a world in which she, or Louis, were born as a single child instead of twins. Obviously that was how the majority of the world lived their lives, but for her, that seemed like such a strange idea. She couldn't imagine it.

"He's back," Sarah said, suddenly standing. It caused everyone to look at the portrait hole, where Louis had just walked through. The entire common room seemed to have noticed as people started clapping and cheering; others—like Albus and Freddie—walked over to practically pounce on him. He'd gotten rather swarmed.

"Should someone go and pull him out?" Sarah asked.

"If he can't figure his way out of this, then he's fucked for the tournament," Dominique mumbled.

After entirely too many rounds of thanking people for their well wishes, Louis finally managed to find his way to them, where he collapsed in a tired heap next to Sarah. It made things tight on the sofa, forcing Sarah to scoot practically on top of Dominique, and Dominique practically on top of Jack.

"Well," Jack began, still adjusting as he draped his arm behind the back of the couch in an attempt to find some space. "I know I speak for all of us when I say that it really is about time _something_ good happened to you, Lou. So, congratulations for that."

Dominique and Louis smirked at that, though leave it to Natalie to add, "You're joking, right? He's practically—"

"Sarcasm, Nat," Eleanor said to her as she looked up from her book, speaking for the first time since they'd sat.

"Thank you," said Louis with a lazy nod. He was clearly tired of saying those words and it showed.

"Where'd they take you?" Jack asked.

"Trophy room," he said. "Took us—me and Zara—down there where they started explaining how this was a magically binding contract and we're in it now. Can't back out. The tournament is very prestigious, blah, blah, blah…The usual thing. There were people from the Ministry—representatives of the tournament—and then reporters from the Prophet. They went through a lot of legal stuff about who's in charge and who's responsible. About who was traveling with us, when we would get our itinerary. That sort of stuff." He shrugged. "They made the whole thing seem pretty standard."

"Did they say when you leave?" Sarah asked.

"About two weeks from today. We spend anywhere from a month and a half to two months at each school. Durmstrang, then Beauxbatons, then back here. First Task should be near the end of November or early December. I'll be home for the holidays. Then in January I'm off again. Second Task should be in February. Then the tournament comes here in April. Third Task should be in May. But nothing is really set in stone."

"So, you'll be gone," Sarah began, looking as if she was counting in her head, "Four months?"

"Yeah, seems so," he said, draping his arm around Sarah's shoulders. He pulled her closer to him. "It's really not so bad. It'll honestly only be two months at a time since I get to come home in the middle."

Sarah smiled at him, but it seemed forced.

"What'd the reporters want from you?" asked Flynn.

Louis shrugged in a bored manner. "They took loads of pictures and then interviewed us both. They were really excited about the whole legacy champion thing. That was almost exclusively what they asked me about. I feel as though Zara didn't get half as many questions as I did."

"She can't compete with that headline," Sarah said. "It practically writes itself."

That was the truth, Dominique thought as she let her head drop back against the sofa—half listening as Flynn began firing off questions about whether or not they'd mentioned the prizes. She ended up thumping lightly against Jack's arm, though he made no attempt to move it. She also made no attempt to pick her head up.

Things were going to change now, regardless of how much Louis wanted to paint this as nothing. He was clearly excited, but he knew what this tournament could do to people; he knew it wasn't easy. Everyone around them was so excited, and why shouldn't they be? At best they had heard stories of what had happened last time, but they were simply stories from the past—fairy tales almost. They hadn't lived with their mother's fear of simple things, such as swimming in large bodies of water or tall, towering hedges. Louis had, though.

Beside her Sarah exhaled heavily as Louis was explaining something to Flynn; her body language screaming apprehension and uncertainty. It was noticeable enough that Louis stopped mid-sentence and looked at her. "Hey." He smiled. "You want to talk? Upstairs?"

She nodded and stood, throwing everyone a tepid smile before she headed off toward the staircase leading to the boys' dormitory. Louis stood as well, but before he left, he turned to his sister.

"McGonagall let me use her fireplace to tell mum and dad. She said it would be all over the papers tomorrow and it would be best if I delivered the news."

She lifted her head up and stared at him. "You were able to see them?"

He nodded, though his gaze was in the direction Sarah had gone off in. "They seemed—" He faltered for a moment before looking back at her, "—happy. And, you know, nervous. Mum especially. She didn't say much other than that she loves me and believes in me. I tried to get her excited by telling her I'd get to go to Beauxbatons and spend time there, but..." He shrugged. "You know her. She worries."

Dominique nodded, but said nothing as she pictured her mother probably lecturing their father about Louis' dumb decision. Dominique wouldn't have been surprised if she'd started the minute Louis had disappeared.

"I'm going to…" Louis pointed after Sarah, but was now talking to Jack and Flynn. "Just give us some time up there before any of you come up."

"Sure," Jack said with a nod; Flynn nodded also. With that, Louis walked off; as soon as he was out of earshot, Jack looked over to Flynn and added, "At least we got warned not to come up this time."

"He's warned us because they're actually going to talk," Flynn mumbled. "It's a different story when it's sex. Then we get no warning."


	8. Captain's Rank

In the weeks that followed before Louis' departure, things took a very strange turn. It seemed that it wasn't just Hogwarts students who were caught up in the mania of the tournament, but the outside world as well. The Daily Prophet had been covering it fairly relentlessly, despite nothing even happening yet; there was a story about the champions—both here and abroad—every day. Louis was proving to already be a fan favorite.

The day after the initial selection, the Prophet had run a two page story on the history of the tournament, as well as a large feature on Louis and Zara. There had been a nice photo of the two of them, which even Dominique had to admit made them both look like models—despite neither doing much more than standing there and smiling. It had been a basic sort of interview that touched on their excitement at having been chosen and their feelings going forward. Louis had been correct when he'd mentioned that he'd gotten more questions than Zara and the article reflected that with an entire two paragraphs at the end solely discussing their mother and her time in her own tournament. Whoever wrote the article simply loved the idea of a second generation champion and it showed—they'd clearly found their angle.

The stories continued to grow on that note; everything to her family's connection to Harry Potter, to frequent recaps of her mother's time in her tournament—complete with old photos that Dominique had never even seen—to Louis' entire biography of his time spent at Hogwarts. He was called a bright boy, one of the cleverest wizards of his age. Popular and handsome, a natural leader. These were always accompanied by photos of him that were always beyond flattering. It was honestly getting to be ridiculous.

"Let's see what they wanked into the paper about Louis today," Jack joked one morning over breakfast, throwing Louis a funny smile as he flipped open a copy of the Prophet.

" _Merlin himself simply doesn't compare,_ " Dominique joked, making her voice sound high-pitched. " _We are all better for simply knowing he exists_."

Louis rolled his eyes, but said nothing as he continued to eat his porridge. At this point, he'd reached what Dominique considered the third stage of his newfound fame.

The first had been excitement, especially after seeing himself in the paper and at the sudden post and presents he was receiving. The second had been embarrassment now. He was over constantly seeing himself in the paper, and the fan post was turning out to be the mindless ramblings of people who didn't even know him. The third was annoyance. He wouldn't even open the paper up anymore and Sarah and Dominique were now the ones who looked through his post to see if there was anything important. He couldn't be bothered.

Their grandmother in France had sent them a collection of newspapers with Louis' face in them, and apparently the Beauxbatons' crowd were trying to claim Louis as some sort of third Champion that they had some stake in. They—even more so than the Prophet—we're going absolutely mad over this second generation champion story. The handsome son of their beautiful former champion and the unfortunate events that led her across the Channel to England. Dominique had to assume that was a dig at her father, and if so, they could all fuck right off with that.

It would have been hilarious if people didn't believe it, but given some of the letters she'd read from a few Beauxbatons kids, they certainly did. It almost felt as if Louis was overshadowing their own champions, all of whom had been revealed shortly after Louis had been chosen.

Their male champion out of Beauxbatons was called Javier. He was from Spain and had dark hair and eyes and a wide set nose. What stood out from his biography was that he was a natural Legilimens and could read thoughts, which you didn't see very often and Dominique assumed would probably grant him some kind of advantage in this tournament. The girl was called Amalie and was from France. She was seemed fairly average and harmless looking. She was a good student who also had a knack for mental magic like her co-champion, and was a gifted cellist. Neither seemed particularly intimidating.

The Durmstrang champions seemed a bit more exciting. The female champion, called Maarit, was from Norway. She was six feet tall and absolutely stunning in a cold and icy way. Long, jet black hair, fair, piercing eyes; she had a look about her that you didn't see every day and was rather haunting. She was captain of a Dueling Club and apparently had never been defeated in over fifty duels. The bloke was called Aurick. He was Austrian, looked like a potato, and was second in command of something called the "Magical Initiative" and was keen on studying and rehabilitating magical creatures.

"What's the Prophet got today?" Dominique asked Jack, watching as he flipped through several pages before stopping to read one. "Is Louis now a descendant of Merlin himself? Had he got a secret fortune?"

"Actually, it's got you," Jack said, now sliding the paper toward her.

"What about me?" she asked as she took it, noticing that her, as well as Victoire's, school picture from the previous year was smiling back at her. They were pictured alongside a photo of their parents from some sort of Ministry function and a larger picture of Louis.

Her name had been mentioned before in articles referencing Louis—as his twin sister in a very generic sort of way—but until today, she hadn't seen her picture in print. It was one of her better photos; she remembered thinking that last year after she'd had it taken. Her mother had been thrilled that for the first time since all three of her children had been at Hogwarts, they'd finally looked perfectly put together; needless to say, it wasn't Vicotire or Louis who were usually ruining their little trio in the past. She looked so much like her mother in that photo—which she especially noticed now that her teenage mother's face was being blasted all over the papers lately.

"Why are you in there?" Sarah asked.

Dominique waved her away as she attempted to read what had been written. Jack was now reading over her shoulder.

It was about their family—though not the usual focus on just their mother. It was almost as if someone had written the story of Louis' life without actually talking to anyone who had been a part of it. He grew up in Tinworth near the coast. He was the youngest of three, though only the youngest by minutes—they emphasized that part.

She and Victoire were mentioned in a long paragraph about his siblings. She was the beautiful twin sister for whom Louis was particularly close to according to a source. Who the fuck was this source? It mentioned her love of Quidditch—" _Choosing to instead focus her energies on the pitch instead of the classroom_ "—and even her current ranking from the Quidditch Trials. How did they know all of this? How did they even get their photos? She wasn't aware that her school photos were public record.

"This is ridiculous," Dominique said, looking up at her brother.

His face remained bored, as if to say he was already well aware of that.

"Who is this source?" she asked. "The one who seems to know we're 'quite close' and that I got a seven in the Quidditch Trials?"

"Could be anyone," Louis said. "None of that is exactly secret information."

She shook her head, sliding the newspaper away from her and letting Sarah to pick it up. "I didn't ask to be a part of this.

"Sorry," Louis muttered. "Here's hoping once the tournament starts, they'll have actual stuff to write about instead of dredging up every detail about my life."

"Everything but me," Sarah said suddenly, causing everyone to look at her. "I've never been mentioned once. There hasn't been one mention of you having a girlfriend."

"That can't be," he said. "I mean, I've stopped reading the articles, but I'm sure—"

She shook her head. "Not once." She looked over at Dominique and Jack. "Have either of you seen anything?"

She and Jack both shook their heads. It was strange that there hadn't been at least a throwaway line about Louis having a long-term girlfriend in any of these stupid puff pieces. Dominique had been mentioned three or four times by name, and today by picture. It often talked of Louis having lots of friends and being popular, but not one mention of Sarah. Even many of the letters he'd received were love letters and practically marriage proposals from people who found him to be dreamy and eligible. It seemed making Louis single and available was another angle someone was playing at.

Sarah didn't say much more at breakfast, though it was clear she was rather peeved by the entire situation. By the time Dominique and Jack were getting ready to leave for Open Pitch time down at the Quidditch arena, Louis was attempting to take her mind off of things. Whether he managed to get her out of her funk, Dominique didn't know, because she'd left and attempted to clear her mind of anything that wasn't related to being on a broom. She was rather happy for the open air free time since her brother and this dumb tournament had nothing to do with what she did out there on a broom.

It also didn't hurt that it gave her and Jack free time together. With Louis and Sarah around, they were very much in their usual boxes. Louis' sister, Sarah's best friend, Louis' best friend. Dominique knew that when she and Louis were together, it was hard to not let their natural connection take over most conversations. When she and Sarah were together, something very similar occurred. And obviously Sarah and Louis together could hijack any moment and make it revolve around the two of them.

But Jack had always been more subdued—the one to sit back and speak when necessary, not fight his way into a conversation. When it was the four of them together, it was almost hard for her and him to really talk; someone else was always steering the attention toward themselves. It actually explained why it had taken so long for her and Jack to become as close as they were now. There was a reason it didn't occur until Louis and Sarah started dating and often disappeared together.

"It's Ballycastle's year," Jack was saying as they walked down the path to the arena, their conversation now turned to professional Quidditch. Jack was a huge fan of the Ballycastle Bats—a team out of North Ireland that he adopted almost immediately years ago when he found out they were closest to home. While Dominique would admit they were playing very well—especially for them—to claim it was their year was a stretch.

"Keep dreaming," she said, laughing as the path weaved down a hill. "Do you think Puddlemere is going to let that happen?"

"Puddlemere's rubbish."

They weren't. They were the top of the league, but she didn't want to admit that anymore than Jack did. She was a Holyhead Harpies fan—an all female team that her Aunt Ginny had played for in her professional playing days. The Harpies hadn't won a Championship in awhile—though they had made it to the semifinals the last four years running.

"I wish Puddlemere was rubbish," she said. "But they're crushing everyone and everything in their path." She looked over at him. "Including Ballycastle next weekend."

"It's a long season," Jack said. "And we play them multiple times. I'm not worried about it. I'd rather be challenged by the best. it makes you better." He grinned at her. "Our division is tough. Unlike some people's division."

"Are you knocking the Western division?" she asked as they entered the arena.

"I just think it must be nice to coast along all season like the Harpies and not have to face any real competition until the semis."

"At least we make it to the semis." She put her finger to her mouth as if pretending to ponder something. "When was the last time Ballycastle made it? I think it was 2006? How old were we then? Five?"

"Talk all you want," Jack said, looking awfully confident. "It's our year."

"Your year to get crushed by Puddlemere...again," she said as they turned the corner that led to the pitch. It was there that they were met with a small crowd of people standing in the center of the pitch, all with brooms in their hands. They were also entirely Slytherins. "What's happening?"

"Why does it seem like the Slytherins are...?" Jack asked. "This can't be a practice. No one practices on Saturday mornings."

Off to the side, Erin, Zara and the Slytherin Keeper—a fifth-year boy by the name Lucian—were deep in conversation. They suddenly began walking to the center of the pitch, Erin with a clipboard in her hands.

"What's this, then?" Jack called out, making eye contact with Erin. She didn't bother to respond and he turned back to Dominique. "Why are they acting like they booked the pitch?"

"Let's go and ask," she said, already heading off in their direction. She crossed the grass quickly and approached as Erin was giving Zara and Lucian instructions on something having to do with a tryout.

"Tryout?" Jack asked, having heard it as well. "Tryouts were a month ago. You already had tryouts."

"Well, we've got another," said Erin, looking up from her clipboard in a bored manner before quickly returning to it.

"The pitch has been reserved for Slytherin," Zara said, now making a gesture with her hand for them to move toward the exit. She turned to Lucian and added, "Come on, we need to warm up."

"Since when?" Jack asked, watching Zara and Lucian fly off.

"Since when?" Erin repeated, now lowering her clipboard and staring at the both of them as if they were idiots. "Since one of my starting Chasers got swept up into this stupid tournament. That's since when."

Dominique gawked at her. So, because Zara was out, Slytherin was allowed to hold another tryout a month after the fact? That had never happened before. That wasn't allowed. "You got permission?"

"Of course I got permission. Professor Ivanson said it was fine given the circumstances." She held up her clipboard. "He's the one who signed off on Slytherin reserving the pitch."

Dominique and Jack exchanged looks. This was highly unorthodox. Teams lost players to injury or illness or even poor marks all of the time. The rule was that you were to choose from your alternate bank—hence why they existed. You didn't get to hold a whole new tryout.

"I'm failing to see how this is fair," said Jack.

"Fair?" Erin said, now sounding annoyed. "You want to talk about fair? I've got a week before I lose my best Chaser. I have to find and train a new one, despite planning an entire season around the one I had."

"Don't you have alternates?"

"Obviously," she said. "But there's a reason they're not good enough to start. I didn't try out any Chasers this year since I only needed Beaters, and you know bloody well that the people turning up to be Beaters are not the same ones turning up to be Chasers. This is my chance to see this lot." She glanced from one to the other. "The season hasn't even started yet. Get over it."

"I was always told that after initial tryouts, you've got to stick with what you've got." Jack looked at Dominique. "Isn't that the rule?"

"Always has been."

"Oh, give me a fucking break, Ians," Erin said, stepping up to him. She was petite and a good eight inches shorter than him, but she clearly wasn't intimidated in the least. "Tell you what, I'm pulling captain's rank. Isn't that what we do?"

He stared at her. He didn't answer, but he didn't flinch at her sudden closeness either.

"For example," she continued, "when someone in tryouts beats our starting Seeker, but we pull rank and keep that from happening. Same thing."

Jack's lip twitched at that. "That was different. Potter made the choice himself to be a Chaser."

Erin laughed. "Right. _He_ made a choice. It had nothing to do with the big, scary seventh-year Beater who could stomp his head into the pavement without breaking a sweat telling him what he needs to do. No, yeah, he obviously made that choice."

"Fuck off, he didn't threaten him," Dominique said.

"Obviously you would say that! It benefited you!" Erin stepped away from Jack to look at Dominique. "You got to stay on the team. You—" She looked back at Jack, "—saved your proven Seeker, and Potter still makes the cut. Everyone wins."

Dominique and Jack cast a quick look at each other, but neither responded.

"Aaaaand," Erin continued, heavily emphasizing that word, "you two get to stay together." She smirked. "Speaking of that, have the two of you even figured this—" she pointed back and forth between the two of them, "—out yet? I just want to be kept up to speed."

Dominique's gaze hardened while Jack muttered, "Hold your bloody tryout," before turning to leave.

"I will, thanks!" she shouted after him. She then turned and smiled at Dominique. "Have a nice day."

With that, she turned on the balls of her feet to go and address the awaiting Slytherins who were awaiting her instructions. Dominique turned and saw Jack was nearly back at the tunnel. She jogged to catch up, sighing before saying, "Remember at the Trials when, for maybe five minutes, we were all friends?"

The day following Dominique's picture being printed in the papers, she suddenly received three letters from people she'd never met a day in her life. She'd opened them to find one full of terribly written poems; one from a woman who was full of questions from everything to her shoe size to her favorite color; and lastly, a letter from a David—aged seven—asking her to be his girlfriend since she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She read all three and slowly put them away without a word since she'd found them all rather odd.

The day after that, six more letters. Four from boys and girls calling her all sorts of synonyms for beautiful and asking if she was single. The other two were from girls who wanted to know more about Louis and if they could be friends with her.

Two days after that. Twenty-one letters, a copy of the French newspaper from her grandmother that contained the same article featuring her from the Prophet three days prior, and also a few gifts. She couldn't hide it anymore—her friends were starting to notice.

Someone had drawn a portrait of her based on her picture from the Prophet. Someone sent her a pack of Quidditch cards since they read she liked Quidditch. Someone sent her rocks from their garden. Someone sent her homemade biscuits and wrote how they hoped she liked butterscotch. What was happening?

"Those actually look really good," Flynn said in the common room as he picked up one of the biscuits and examined it.

"Don't you dare eat that," Sarah said from her seat on the floor, where she was currently sitting at a coffee table full of Dominique's post. "You have no idea who sent that."

"Do you think they're poisoned?" he joked. "Why would someone try to poison Nicki with biscuits?"

"Why would someone randomly bake her biscuits and put them in the post in the first place?" asked Jack, who was sitting beside Flynn. He'd just finished reading over one of her letters and had tossed it back on the table. "The one who wrote that is a nutter. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he wants to wear your skin as a suit."

Dominique, Sarah, and Flynn's eyes went wide in horror, as if they'd never heard something so morbid. "Did it say that?!"

"No, I meant like in that film where..." He slowly trailed off. "Nevermind. Sometimes I forget who I'm talking to."

"I don't even understand why this is happening," Dominique said as she looked over the post. "Why am I getting this? I'm a nobody."

"You're not exactly a nobody," said Sarah, picking up another letter to read. "You're a witch from a famous family whose twin brother is getting a lot of attention at the moment. And you're pretty. People like pretty."

"Based on one school photo," she argued. "That's all they have to go on."

"Photo or not, it doesn't change the fact that you are," Jack offered, having already picked up her new pack of Quidditch cards to absently flip through them. He was now turning one of the cards over to read the stats on the back while she found herself staring rather blankly at him.

"I can't even read half of these," Sarah said, setting one letter down. "Just like Louis', they're in French. This one over here is in Spanish. This one—" She picked up one of the letters and eyed it. "I have no idea what language this is." She laughed. "You're international."

"I don't want to be international, I want to be left alone," Dominique mumbled. As she spoke, a large eagle owl came swooping in through an open window across the common room. Several people turned to watch as it flew directly over to where Dominique was sitting and dropped yet another letter in front of her before flying away.

She didn't even bother to pick it up, but instead groaned loudly.

Sarah took it upon herself to grab it. "This won't be one of your adoring fans," she said, pulling the message apart to open it. "That was a personal owl, not a post owl."

"I have no idea whose owl that is," Dominique said, watching as Sarah was now reading over the rolled up piece of parchment. When she didn't say anything right away, Dominique finally asked, "Well?"

Sarah handed it to her. "The world's turned upside down."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked as she took it and began scanning it. As soon as she read the first two lines, she immediately sat up in shock. Now she understood what Sarah had meant. The world truly had turned upside down.

Henry had written her. Her quasi-sort of-maybe-not really boyfriend had actually written her. He wasn't supposed to do that. They didn't talk. They hadn't talked in over a month since school had started. What could he possibly be writing about?

It seemed long—or maybe it was just long compared to what she expected of him. He'd been thinking about her a lot. He...he missed her? He was hoping that they could meet in Hogsmeade one of these weekends; she just had to name the time and the place and he would be there. There was an entire paragraph that got fairly graphic about things, but she found herself scanning that rather quickly. Despite that being the only part of the letter that seemed true to him, she felt a little strange reading that in the middle of the day surrounded by people in the common room. The rest of the letter didn't even make sense. He missed her? What in the bloody hell was this?

She glanced up and saw Sarah watching her, realizing then that she not only knew who the letter was from, but that she'd read it. Dominique folded it back up and said nothing. Sarah seemed to understand that she wasn't interested in talking about it and didn't bring it back up. Of all the letters she'd received that day—including one that had apparently given the impression that they wanted to wear her skin—Henry's was the strangest one.

"I find the timing a bit suspect," Sarah said later, once everyone else had gone and it was just the two of them. "Davies never writes, but now he is? Now that you're suddenly in the papers and popular?"

"How would he know I'm suddenly popular?"

She shrugged as if she didn't have an answer. "I can only hope that he's finally realizing he's got a good thing and he should be making an effort to keep it. Before some Quidditch card sending suitors with shitty poems sweeps you off your feet and steals you away."

Dominique rolled her eyes. "The entire reason we're together—or whatever we are—is because he doesn't make an effort. That's the point."

But the letters from him didn't stop. She was not only receiving daily letters from nutters near and far, but also from Henry—all of them saying the same sort of lovey-dovey "I miss you" and "I miss touching you" declarations. "When can I see you?" "When will you be visiting Hogsmeade?" She'd honestly stopped reading after the fourth of fifth because they were all the same.

She'd ignored them the best she could, despite Sarah saying she should either write him back and answer him or tell him to stop. She'd been hoping that Henry would get the hint given her silence, but apparently the lack of communication only made him double down and send more. Maybe he thought she wasn't getting them and wanted to be sure. All she knew was that she didn't even recognize who the hell he was in these letters. She definitely didn't like it.

"Would you just break up with him?" Sarah said to her as they walked the corridors after dinner on the night before Louis was set to leave. "He sends you a letter every other day and instead of being excited or even vaguely interested to hear from your boyfriend—"

"He's not my—"

"—you act like he's sending you cursed goods," Sarah finished. "You know what I plan on doing when I get letters from Louis once he's gone?"

"Kiss it?" Dominique asked. "Hug it? Wank to it?"

She didn't even flinch. "I plan on reading it about a thousand times. But even if I read it only once, that's one more time than you've read any of Davies' lately."

"Because they're all the same," Dominique said. "They're all strange and clingy and 'I miss you' and 'I'm thinking about you'. What am I supposed to even say to him? Sorry, I don't miss you? I thought we were only stringing this along because it was easy? I only even kept this going because you caught me at a weak moment?"

"Yes!" Sarah said as they walked through the portrait hole and into the common room. "Say all of that. Say you're done and to stop writing! I've told you, now that you're in the papers and people are interested, he wants more. He didn't care when you wanted more, but he cares now that you've got options."

Dominique legitimately laughed at that. "Options? I know you're not talking about the nutters sending me letters."

"They're terrible options," Sarah agreed as they took two open chairs, "but still options. I'm serious. You need to shut things down with him. You said you don't care and you're only with him because it's easy."

"To be fair, I've always said that."

"Right, but now he's getting weird and you don't like it. Jump ship. I refuse to believe the sex is that good."

Dominique shrugged. "It's always been fine.'

"You said Stuart was better."

"He was. So, what?"

"Sooooo," she said, stretching that word out unnecessarily long, "I'm trying to tell you there's better sex out there. Other sex. You have one night with another guy and it topped anything you've ever had with Davies."

She bit the inside of her mouth out of frustration. Sarah didn't know it, but for some reason the more she pushed her against Henry, the more it drove her toward him. It was the same when Louis, or Victoire, or anyone really came down on her for keeping him around. They made her feel a fiery urge to rebel and run right to him—even if she agreed with everything they were saying about him. She had no idea why, especially when his weird letters really did annoy her and she found them to be a huge turnoff, but yet here she was. She was now thinking about contacting him.

"Look, the letters aren't real options," Sarah added, glancing across the room to where a group of sixth and seventh-years were goofing around, "but you know you have an actual option."

Dominique sighed, well aware of where she was going with this as she, too, watched the group. Jack was sitting with Tommy and his sixth-year friends. Both boys were currently explaining something to Kenley and her friend, Adeline. They were all smiles and giggles and seemed rather keen on whatever was being talked about.

"Gee," Dominique said, laying the sarcasm on thick, "whomever could you possibly be talking about?"

Sarah followed her gaze. "I wish you could just see yourself when he's around. It's beyond obvious that you're full of shit when you deny any of it."

She made no reaction one way or another. She was hoping to look aloof and unfazed by her comment given she didn't want to admit or deny anything. It seemed that despite her best efforts to make it seem like she didn't fancy Jack, apparently Sarah saw right through all of that. Was she that obvious? Did he notice?

"And I'm fairly certain he's got a functioning dick."

That comment had given Dominique a quick start, causing her to blink. It also was now making her picture Jack naked, which certainly wasn't the first time, but it was the first time that day. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because I'm trying to make you realize you can have sex with other people. Even if it's not Jack, just chuck Davies and move on already!"

Dominique said nothing to that as a strange battle began to play out in her head. A very large part of her knew Sarah was right. She didn't even like Henry much. She rarely thought about him; Jack took up more space in her head than he did. And the sex—while good—wasn't something she couldn't find with someone else. There really was no point in keeping things going.

But at the same time, she did not like to be told what to do or lectured to as if she was a child who didn't know any better. They didn't understand that she wasn't typical when it came to relationships, but Henry seemed to understand that. At least he had until these weird letters. But perhaps she just needed to talk to him and find out where he was coming from. Maybe it was about time she did write him back and see if he was free soon to meet her in Hogsmeade.

But she put all of those thoughts out of her mind when Louis finally returned from his meeting with McGonagall. It had been the last thing he needed to do before he left the following morning. His entire demeanor was bouncy and excited. As he told them, they were leaving at sunrise.

"Apparently," he was saying to the lot of them as he sat front and center on the sofa near the fire, "we get to travel by bus."

"You're taking a bus to Durmstrang?" Jack asked. "All the way to…? Where are they anyway?"

"Somewhere in the Nordic area, I heard," Sarah mumbled from her spot beside Louis. She'd gotten especially somber and quiet over the last hour. "Up north is the only thing anyone seems to know for sure."

"A bus trip seems like it would take ages," quipped Jack.

"Because you're thinking like a Muggle," Dominique said. She, like Sarah, had gotten rather quieter since her brother had gotten back, but she wasn't as somber. She was anxious. "You have to think of a magic bus."

"Yeah, it's probably a really cool specialty bus," Flynn offered. "Anyone ever been on the Knight Bus? That thing is a trip."

"Right," Louis said as he playfully nudged Sarah, which made her begrudgingly smile. "Inside it's got rooms and beds and just the comforts of home. It's where we're supposed to sleep and live when we're not busy with other stuff."

"Do the other schools have buses?"

"My mum said that Beauxbatons travels by flying carriage," Louis said. "Not sure what Durmstrang uses."

"Flying carriage?" Flynn asked. "And all we have is a bloody bus? We've got nothing better to offer than a bus?"

The rest of the evening had felt like a funeral procession. Flynn and Jack were normal, though Jack being quiet was typical behavior on any day. Flynn did more talking than anyone, which was actually a good thing considering everyone else had little to say. Louis flipped back and forth between being outgoing and social to, quiet and subdued depending on whom he was talking to. He kept a reassuring hand on Sarah almost all evening as random kids kept coming up to him to wish him luck. He would smile and turn on the charm; thank them and tell them he felt confident. After they'd left, he'd go back to quiet and introspective. Had it not been for Flynn telling his dumb jokes and stories, they may have spent most of the evening in solemn silence

It was around nine in the evening when Louis claimed he and Sarah were going up to his room to be alone. He said goodbyes to Jack and Flynn, reassuring both of them that muffling charms would be working and curtains drawn so as not to disturb them. Dominique got the impression that he and Sarah were more than likely to have a sweet, very long, goodbye session and less the sex-fueled night he was alluding to, but it made Flynn and Jack laugh as he gave them both hugs goodbye.

He turned to Dominique, causing her stomach to drop. "You got a second?"

She exhaled deeply and nodded as she stood up. It was time. Louis was telling Sarah to meet him upstairs once Dominique came back down, then he turned toward his sister and gestured toward the boys' stairs. She followed him up to his room.

She prided herself on being fairly detached when it came to saying goodbyes. She didn't like them, but she never got particularly emotional when she bid her family goodbye on the first day of school or her friends on the last day of school; then again she always knew she was coming back. She would see those people all again soon enough. She wasn't one to get sappy at a temporary change.

But she'd never once in her life had to say goodbye to Louis. Not really. A week at most, but that was really nothing in the grand scheme of things. For most of her life, her brother had been a wall or a common room away. Now they were looking at separate countries and months apart. She'd made it to seventeen before realizing she'd never lived much of a life apart from him. That would have been difficult to deal with under boring and normal circumstances, but he wasn't headed into boring and normal. He was heading into life-threatening and dangerous.

Louis shut the door behind them. They stood there in the middle of his room; she looked at him and he looked at her. He grinned, trying to be encouraging. She did nothing but continue to stare at him.

"I'm going to be ok," he finally said.

She felt the tears start to well up already. She wanted to yell that he didn't know that. He didn't know anything about what was about to happen. He couldn't promise her that. He shouldn't say that if he couldn't promise it.

"I'm pretty clever," he offered. "I don't think my name would have come out of that thing if I couldn't handle myself."

"I hate that you've entered this," she said as she looked away and wiped one of her eyes. "I hate everything about this."

"I know you do."

The tears were coming now; the sniffling too as she thought about the possibility of something happening to him. "Louis, you can't…" She couldn't even finish that sentence because she didn't want to put the idea of him dying out into the universe. "I don't know what I would do if something happened to you. I honestly don't. You're my..." She felt herself choke back on emotion that left her unable to finish speaking. She didn't have to say it though. Louis already knew any and every word she could have plugged into that sentence.

Louis was doing a better job fighting off tears than she was, though that last part seemed to hit him a bit. He looked away from her just then, his focus now aimlessly on Flynn's bed as he stifled a sniffle. "I'm not going to let anything happen."

"You're an idiot," she said between sniffles. "You're such a fucking idiot.'

"And I love you, too," he said, his shiny eyes turning to meet hers. He smiled at her.

An actual cry escaped her. If there was one thing she hated to do, it was cry. And if there was one thing she hated more than crying, it was crying in front of people. Louis knew that. It was why he had the good sense to bring her up here instead of saying goodbye to her downstairs. She usually refused to let people see her do it, but Louis didn't count. He didn't count because he was one of the very few people in her life that actually did count.

He walked over and pulled her into a very tight hug, his head resting on top of hers as she momentarily let her tears stain the front of his shirt. What if this tournament fucked him up so badly that he came back an entirely different person? Even if he came back unharmed, that wasn't to say he wouldn't come back unscathed. Her mother was a perfect example of that. She admitted that she went in one person and came out another. And while the person she became was the only version of her mother that she ever knew, she already liked the Louis she had. For all the shit she gave him about being too perfect for his own good, she didn't want to lose any part of him.

"I mean, this is me we're talking about," he said, pulling away. "You've always joked that I come out on top. Who's to say I won't this time?"

"I don't need this to be the first time you don't."


	9. Radio Noise

Before anyone knew it, Louis had been gone for over a month and December had rolled in on a haze of nonstop school work and endless studying. Quidditch had proven to be Dominique's only release, though with temperatures dropping to a point where speeding around on her broom was now uncomfortable, even that was proving to be less than enjoyable. Tomorrow was the last match before school broke for the holidays; after that, practices and matches were usually stopped until mid to late January due to the weather. They were always the longest weeks when she couldn't get out on her broom, so she was trying to enjoy these moments while she could. Even if it was so cold that she couldn't feel her face.

She landed on the ground inside the pitch, having just ran twenty dive drills back to back to back. Her dives were her strongest feature as a Seeker, and the one thing she had Griffin Giggleswick beat on when it came to facing him head to head. They played Ravenclaw tomorrow and it was extremely important for them to win this match,

As it were, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were tied in the rankings. Both of them had beaten Hufflepuff and Slytherin earlier in the season. Hufflepuff had yet to win a match this year while Slytherin had only managed to beat Hufflepuff. It was clear that losing Zara to the tournament dealt a deadly blow to the rest of the Slytherin team and their new replacement Chaser just wasn't up to snuff. They'd played a very strong Ravenclaw in their opening match with Zara still present and had lost by only twenty or thirty points. They'd played their next match against Gryffindor without Zara and had gotten pummeled by at least two hundred.

While Dominique would have loved to have said that it was due to Gryffindor being unstoppable, she knew that wasn't the case. The entire Slytherin Chasing team seemed beyond confused, and Erin simply wasn't her usual self without Zara there. They'd looked like a complete mess; Dominique had even heard swear words come out Erin's mouth that she'd never even heard before.

Ravenclaw had been looking solid, but the true test was tomorrow when they and Gryffindor faced off in what many were already calling a preview of the final cup match. Dominique felt completely confident in her team. She'd caught every Snitch this season thus far—and easily too. Kenley was doing well in her stopping of the Quaffle, but she hadn't had much of a challenge yet due to Hufflepuff's ineptness and Slytherin's sloppiness. The Chasers were coming together in a really well-oiled way, with James and Eatins taking the lead as the main strikers while Alice flanked for rebounds. That only left their Beaters, and they were the best in the school thanks in part to Jack being entirely heads and shoulders above everyone else out there. Tommy honestly didn't even have to show up and they'd still have more Bludger strikes than the team they were playing.

But Ravenclaw had talent too. Their Keeper was the best in the school, their Beaters were consistent, their Seeker was...better than Dominique would ever give him credit for. Their Chasers were their weakest link because they were still trying to work out a chemistry with the new members, but even their weakest one would be an asset to a team like Hufflepuff at the moment. Maybe even Slytherin, too.

But tomorrow was the test.

"Your face is all red," Jack said as she walked up on him and Tommy taking turns to wack a trunk full of mock Bludgers across the pitch to see whose could travel the furthest. It seemed that Tommy had managed to get his just farther than Jack's.

She wanted to comment that she was cold, but was drowned out by Tommy celebrating getting his Bludger farther as if he'd just won the bloody World Cup. "Did that go farther!?" he said, taking the piss and practically cackling at Jack. "Did it? You see that, right?"

Jack said nothing; he simply stepped forward, grabbing his bat by the wrong end, and throwing a Tommy and very cool look. In the next second, he was tossing his mock Bludger high up in the air. He then gave his bat a quick toss up as well, flipping it right side around, catching it by the handle, and the following through his swing to connect with an alarmingly loud crack across the pitch. It flew past Tommy's last one and landed a good twenty feet farther.

"Did that go farther?" Jack asked Tommy, feigning dumb.

Dominique smiled, while Tommy let his head fall back in aggravation. He mumbled a defeated sounding, "Fuck you," before reaching for another Bludger. "I can beat that."

"Talk is cheap, mate," Jack challenged, stepping over to where Dominique stood.

"Show off," she joked.

"Can't let him get too comfortable," he offered, glancing over at her. "Your dives look good. I didn't see all of them, but you managed some really tight ones and still turned up. Even when I thought you'd wouldn't."

"You know I will always get it done unless it's impossibly tight."

"That's what she said!" Tommy called over, still swinging.

Jack shook his head and Dominique smirked despite still making a point to roll her eyes at him. "Tight dives are Giggles' weakness. I need to be on top of those."

"I'll take him out with a Bludger to the head first thing," Jack offered, swinging his bat in super slow motion in order to playfully swat her on the shoulder. "He goes down. You get the Snitch. Match over. We win."

She laughed, stepping out of the way of his bat. "If it were that easy, you'd do it every time, wouldn't you? Though, if you could, that would speed things up tremendously. I don't even know who their backup Seeker is."

"Whoever it is, you'd crush them," Jack said as he picked up a random spare Bludger and began tossing it up and down.

"Didn't you say the same thing about Potter?" Tommy asked as he connected with another Bludger that ultimately fell short. "And we all know how that turned out."

Jack took the Bludger he'd been holding and chucked it at Tommy's back. When it hit him, he yelped and swore loudly, turning to flip Jack off.

"Focus on getting past me, would you?"

"Even my own bloody teammate has to remind me," she muttered. "I will never live that down. Do you know that Giggleswick still enjoys randomly yelling 'beware of those fourth-years' at me?"

"Giggleswick is a sad, little wanker," Jack said as he began balancing his bat on his hand in an attempt to keep it standing straight up on his palm. "Why do you even pay attention to him?"

She shrugged as she watched Jack now focusing all of his attention on his bat. He was balancing it; moving his arm left and right to keep it level. "Because he's my nemesis. I feel like everyone needs a proper nemesis. You should think about getting one."

"I've got one!" Tommy called over, turning around to throw a Bludger back at Jack as hard as he could.

It connected with his arm, causing him to drop his bat and make a pained face as he grabbed the outside of his bicep. "You knob. That actually hurt."

"It was supposed to!"

"About time you hit a target today," he muttered, flinging his bat in Tommy's direction. Tommy dodged it easily, seeing as Jack wasn't actually trying to hit him, and began laughing as if all of this was very funny.

Watching the pair of them was a bit of a comedy act in itself. Tommy and Jack had always gotten on, but this year their relationship had grown from less of a mentor and mentee situation into more of a balanced friendship. They still weren't of equal skill levels, but Jack didn't seem to lecture him as much as he used to. Tommy had gotten genuinely better, but she had to assume that it was also because Jack had grown to enjoy him as a Beating partner.

He walked over to fetch his bat, commenting to Tommy about how his Bludgers didn't seem to be travelling as far as his were.

"How hard could it really be?" Dominique asked, teasing Tommy as he once again cracked a Bludger across the pitch. It still fell short.

Tommy whirled around on her and held out his bat. "Go on, then. If you think it's so easy, have a go."

"I think it should be easy for a _Beater._ I never said I could do it." She still found herself stepping forward to take his bat because, why not? She knew she wouldn't even come close to Tommy's, let alone Jack's, but she was never one to step down from a challenge.

Tommy's bat felt heavy in her hand as soon as she took it. A proper Beater's bat always felt as if it weighed a ton, and she knew that attempting to use this with two hands—let alone the one that Beater's usually used—would be a task. She picked up a Bludger and tossed it into the air, grabbing the bat with two hands and swinging it back. She connected and the Bludger sailed a fair distance away. Nothing impressive, but it was a good attempt.

"Nice," Jack offered.

"She used two hands," Tommy said. "If I used two hands you would have lectured me for half an hour about my shitty form."

"Are you a Beater or a Seeker knocking some Bludgers around?"

"I'm only saying that if I could use two hands, I could hit it out of the arena."

"And I could hit it to the moon. Which is still past yours. Have you given up?"

"Hold on, hold on," Dominique said. "I'll give it a shot with one hand. But I'd step back if I were you. I can't promise I'll hold onto this thing once I swing." She turned the bat around in her hands. "I feel as if it weighs as much as my broom."

"Mine's not even that big," Tommy said. "Jack's is bigger."

"You said it, not me," Jack said smugly.

"Ah, fuck." Tommy muttered. "Walked right into that. For the record, if we're talking about dicks, mine is plenty big."

"Shut it, no one cares," Dominique said before she picked up another Bludger. "As I said, step back." She tossed it up in the air and gripped the bat as hard as she could with one hand. She swung it back and attempted to follow through all the way, but the Bludger sailed right past her and hit the ground with a dull thud.

Tommy started slowly clapping.

"Oh, piss off," she said as she held Tommy's bat back out for him to take. "There's a reason I'm a Seeker."

"You didn't follow through properly," Jack offered as he stepped toward her. "Here, hold this." He held out his own bat to her. She wasn't even sure why she took it or why she was even here for this random lesson in Beating she'd never use, but yet, here she was. After holding Tommy's, his bat did seem much heavier. She'd held it before, but she'd never really noticed until she was being forced to actually swing it. She made a point to dramatically pretend to let it weigh her down.

"Jack likes the big ones," Tommy joked.

"Then he and I have that in common."

"Eh, you've shagged Davies more than once," Tommy quipped. "That suggests otherwise."

Both she and Jack stopped to look back at him, though while Jack let a single laugh escape him, Dominique was now trying to glare a hole through Tommy's head. She grimaced and turned back at Jack. "Why am I even doing this?"

"Because for someone who loves Quidditch as much as you do, you should at least be able to handle the basic one-handed follow through," he said. "And it's also rare that I get to teach you something, so let me try. Pick up the bat."

She did as she was told. Jack grabbed her by the shoulders and positioned her in a very particular stance as he stood behind her and reached out for the bat she was holding. He was now essentially on top of her as he placed his hand over hers, now gripping the bat on top of her. She immediately felt herself getting a little warm at the closeness, but she liked it. "Alright, now instead of going straight back, swing up a bit..." He stepped back to watch her.

"So, like this?" she asked, purposely doing it wrong so he'd be forced to correct her.

"No, you're going straight back, it's—" He stepped back up to her and grabbed her hand on his bat again, just as he had before. With Jack's extra support, the bat obviously felt weightless. He tossed the Bludger up into the air and they connected, though not with his usual force; it still sailed away nicely. She'd barely done anything. She was supposed to be learning, but she'd been rather preoccupied by how he smelled and how much she enjoyed his arms on her.

"It's that easy," he said, stepping back and grinning at her. "It's in the angles."

"Right." She matched his grin and was happy the cold had already made her face red so he couldn't tell he'd caused the added color in her face. "I'll remember that if I ever switch over to Beater."

Tommy cleared his throat in an obvious manner. "Did you two want to be alone?"

She ignored him and instead stepped back to pick up another Bludger as a distraction. Using two hands, she batted it away. Meanwhile, Jack had walked over to join Tommy where he stood. She could hear Tommy ask, "How come I never got the hands on treatment when you were trying to improve my swing? Maybe I'd have benefited from your golden touch, huh?"

"Touch yourself."

"I do," he said without missing a beat, causing Dominique to groan a bit at that. She picked up another Bludger, knocking this one her furthest yet. As she reached for the next, she suddenly realized that Tommy's voice had dropped very low, which immediately piqued her interest. She attempted to listen in while pretending to still be occupied with examining Bludgers.

"—though, perhaps if I pulled that cute little move you just did, I'd get somewhere." He paused for a long moment. "You think Kenley wants to learn to be a Beater?"

In an equally low voice, Jack said, "It wasn't—"

"Sure, of course. You wouldn't, not when she's got a boyfriend after all." He paused. "But from where I'm standing, she seemed into it."

Dominique turned at that moment to face them, noticing that they both were watching her rather blankly—as if they hadn't been talking about her moments before. Jack suddenly swatted Tommy in the chest, as if to move things along. "You didn't beat me, so you get to go collect all of the Bludgers."

"What? There's got to be fifty of them out there. I didn't bring my wand out here."

He shrugged. "Next time hit the Bludger harder."

"Fucking…" he muttered, though whatever else he said, he said it under his breath as he went about grabbing the large trunk to go and gather up all the Bludgers with. As soon as he'd stormed off, Jack and she exchanged a quick, albeit slightly awkward, look. She still managed a smile, which he returned with a tired sigh. Times like this, she very much wanted to flat out ask him how he felt. Sarah claimed to see it from both of them, though Dominique couldn't say the same. Or maybe she wasn't really paying attention. Even Tommy had seen something; what if it had been a bit of a move?

"Sun's going down," Jack said. "I should call it."

She nodded, watching as he gestured over to where the Chasers and Kenley were now landing to let them know they were done for the evening. They all gathered their things, with everyone now talking about how good they felt for tomorrow and how they really thought they would come out on top of Ravenclaw.

It was such a lovely atmosphere, what with everyone getting along and joking as they pulled their supply boxes and equipment back into the changing rooms to put them away. Jack was telling them that he wanted everyone down to the pitch an hour and a half before the match so they could do a team meeting and run through all of their plays. No one should be late because when it came to Ravenclaw, they needed to make sure everything was crystal clear.

"That's it," Jack said, waving them all off. "You can all get out of—" He stopped when the door to the changing room suddenly opened. Everyone turned to look, only to find Professor Longbottom entering. Jack, looking as confused as everyone else, greeted him with an "Evening, Professor."

"Good evening, everyone," he said, forcing a smile even though there was a lot of obvious concern on his face. His presence here alone was enough to raise questions seeing as he never came down to the changing rooms during the week or for practices. His expression screamed that whatever he was here for, it wasn't normal.

"Is everything alright?" James asked from his seat across the room.

"Yes, yes," Longbottom said quickly, though not sounding entirely convincing. "Yes. Everything's fine. We've just received some...rather surprising news."

Everyone began looking at one another, though Jack's eyes remained firmly on Longbottom. "Is it about the match tomorrow?"

"Did Ravenclaw forfeit?" asked Eatins.

Longbottom laughed a little, though his face went back to serious almost immediately. "No, nothing like that, Mr. Eatins. Match is on tomorrow as scheduled." He glanced at Dominique. "Miss Wealsey, I've actually come looking for you."

She felt everyone's eyes on her as she suddenly shifted awkwardly in her seat. Had she done something wrong? She couldn't think of anything. She'd even been behaving herself around Giggleswick and his dumb taunts lately. "Me, sir?"

"Yes," Longbottom said, his forehead creases now becoming more prominent. "It really affects all of us, but…" He paused. "It seems Durmstrang had decided, rather suddenly and without notice, to commence with the first task this evening."

Several people said, "What?" and others muttered, "But why?" Dominique stood from her chair straight away. She'd felt her heart drop into her stomach. This evening? The task was happening...now? But she was supposed to be there. She was supposed to be there for her brother. She was supposed to be there for herself. Why was she still standing here?

"This evening?" asked Tommy.

Longbottom nodded. "They gave us an hour's notice. Just enough time for Professor McGonagall to get to the Ministry and arrange an emergency Portkey in order to be there."

"But," Dominique stammered, a thousand thoughts now running through her head. "I should be there."

"You should," Longbottom said. "But Durmstrang does things...differently. We'd assumed we'd have time to arrange this, but according to our contacts at Durmstrang, the element of surprise was far more important to their task than preparing us. Professor McGonagall, as well as the Headmistress at Beauxbatons, were not pleased with the way things occurred."

"But I need to be there," Dominique said. "I'm his family. I should be—"

"Miss Weasley," Longbottom interrupted, his tone gentle. "Given the suddenness of it all, there's no way to get you there on time."

"McGonagall's getting there!" she yelled. "I could have gone with her!"

" _Professor_ McGonagall left at a moment's notice," Longbottom continued, letting Dominique's lack of proper etiquette apparently slide. "The challenge will already have started—and possibly be completed by the time she arrives. There was no time to find you." He gestured around the room. "It took me half an hour to track you down here."

"It's started already?" James asked, now standing up as well. "Are we missing it?"

"We're not entirely sure," Longbottom continued. "If it hasn't started by now, it will very shortly. We've established a radio frequency with some individuals from the Daily Prophet who will relay the details so that we can stay informed as to what's occurring until we get word from Professor McGonagall."

"Wait, the bloody Prophet is there?" Dominique asked. "How did they get there so quickly?"

"I'm told they have Portkey connections in order to follow the news."

"And Hogwarts doesn't?!"

"People don't usually leave the country at a moment's notice directly from the castle," Longbottom said. "Even the Headmistress had to go through Ministry channels when traveling abroad."

"That's bollocks," said Dominique, not at all caring that she was currently talking to her Head of House.

Longbottom seemed to sympathize with her and let her, once again, get away with that comment. "I agree with you."

"So, you said it's on the radio?" asked Jack. "Can we listen to it?"

Longbottom nodded. "I've already informed the rest of Gryffindor Tower and most of them had it tuned in before I'd even left the common room to come find you."

"We need to get back," Jack said as everyone in the room began hastily scraping their chairs and scattering to put things away. Dominique, however, hadn't moved. She was still staring directly at Longbottom.

"You're telling me I'm stuck here and that Louis' got no one out there with him?"

"He has the support system that Hogwarts provided. Our hands are tied. I'd planned on being there as well and am unfortunately now standing here delivering you this news."

She felt as if her stomach was tying itself in knots. How could this have happened? None of his family and none of his friends were there. His support system consisted of some tutor and chaperones, no one he actually knew or cared about. This was absolute bollocks. How was that even allowed?

She felt someone tugging on her arm while the rest of her team was now dashing out the exit in an attempt to get back to Gryffindor Tower. It was Jack who'd grabbed her. "Come on, then. Don't miss more than you have to."

"He's right," Longbottom said. "Last I checked, it hadn't started yet."

Dominique glared at him before shaking her head in an angry manner. She knew it wasn't his fault, but he was the face of the bad news and she was very much in a 'curse the messenger' type of mood. She stepped around him and walked over to where Jack was holding the door for her. As soon as the cold air of the evening hit her face, the sudden importance of getting to a radio as quickly as possible made the urge to run overwhelm her.

She began darting through the tunnels toward the exit of the arena, where just up the path—roughly fifty yards in the distance—she could make out the figures of the rest of her Quidditch team jogging toward the castle. She sprinted to catch up, going up the path and over the hills, feeling a bit winded as she reached the castle doors, but nothing she couldn't push past. She noticed that Jack had kept pace the entire time, though clearly all those morning runs helped him from even looking the slightest bit out of breath. Perhaps she needed to take up jogging.

Up the stairs and through the corridors, she caught up to the rest of her team as they pushed through the portrait hole and into the common room. Sure enough, the entire place was far more crowded than usual with the sounds of multiple radios playing in sync with each other. She immediately felt many pairs of eyes on her, as well as several voices now telling her what she was already well aware of.

"Nic!" shouted Sarah, who was sitting front and center on the best sofa with multiple people surrounding. "Did Longbottom—?"

"Has it started?"

Sarah shook her head as Flynn, who'd been sitting beside her answered, "They—the announcers—keep making us feel as if it's any minute now. They keep describing the terrain and the weather. It's definitely outdoors. They've talked about this bloody mountain a good twenty times."

"Mountain?" Jack asked, having also pushed his way forward.

"They don't seem entirely sure yet, but they said everything seems to be centered around this mountain. Apparently, their mountains are known for their dangerous creatures and strange magic. Sort of reminds me of the stories you hear coming out of the Forbidden Forest, but worse. At least that's how they're making it sound."

"I can't believe we're not there," Sarah said, chewing on her thumbnail with such ferocity that it was clearly going to be gone within the hour. "I can't believe they just decided to surprise everyone." She looked at Dominique. "Do you think they knew ahead of time? Louis and the others, I mean? They had to have given them some warning, right?"

"I have no idea what's happening."

"I think this is all very shady," came the voice of Flyer Taggart, who was sitting on the floor nearby. "Durmstrang surprises everyone with their task so that everyone but their lot is left high and dry without friends or family. They're probably using this weird mountain for their task, which for all we know their champions have been up and down a hundred times. Meanwhile our champions are going to get eaten by a surprise monster that they've got locked up in some cave—"

"Shut up, Flyer!" Sarah snapped as Eleanor, who was standing behind her, reached out and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

The radio suddenly cut back in. The sound of two male voices crackling and popping now carried.

" _Weather seems to be holding out for the time being. Reports have said snowfall is due, but the sky, thus far, has seemed calm. Still no sign of any of the champions, but there is quite a bit of action down here around the base of Mount Vulchavnova."_

" _There is. I've noticed crowds of students emerging from the school and beginning to congregate near what we have to assume is the starting point for the task. Again, to anyone who has just tuned in, I'm Lee Jordan with Daily Prophet Radio—here with my colleague, Finnius Wade. We haven't been given a lot of information as to what's occurring around here. We're just describing what we're seeing."_

" _Yes, it seems as if the Durmstrang people want to keep this as underwraps as possible. Our questions have fallen entirely on deaf ears. We do know the task was announced just over an hour ago, surprising everyone, including us. Lee, do you feel as if this will be a huge disadvantage to our champions from Hogwarts?"_

" _Hard to say, Finnius. I can only assume Louis Weasley and Zahara Zabini are capable and talented wizards who can handle a few surprises thrown at them. That being said, it's hard not to feel as if this won't be an advantage for the Durmstrang champions."_

" _Too true. I've been told Professor Minevra McGonagall was not too happy to hear about the last minute decision on Durmstrang's part."_

" _Well, I can't say I envy the individual who had to face an angry Professor McGonagall. I can say from personal experience from the days when she was my Head of House that she is certainly not a woman you want to make angry."_

" _Sounds like you learned that the hard way, Lee."_

There was laughter from both of the announcers, but Dominique couldn't help but raise her eyebrow in annoyance as she glared at the radio. What was happening? Why was no one capable of telling her anything useful?

"This is how it's been," Sarah said. "They come on every couple of minutes and tell us how they still don't have much information."

"That was the first time they didn't describe the mountain," Flynn mumbled, just as the radio began to crackle with noise once again.

" _Finnius, correct me if I'm wrong, but are we seeing—what are we seeing exactly?"_

" _It seems we're seeing the start of this task. To everyone tuned in, we're currently on the extended grounds of the Durmstrang Institute for the first task of the TwiWizarding School Tournament. It seems that a small procession of torches—about ten—can now be seen walking down an extended path toward what we assume is the starting point."_

" _It looks as if they've got a few minutes until they make it down here, so let me reiterate for anyone tuning in what is happening exactly. Again, we're at Durmstrang Institute. Location—well, unknown. That's just the way Durmstrang wants it since they seem a bit shady if you ask me. We're very clearly up north. There is a decent snowfall on the ground and the air temperature is just below freezing and dropping now that night has fallen. The school itself is about a half mile away, I'd say, built into the side of a mountain. But we don't really care about that. The mountain we're concerned with is the one they refer to as Mount Vulchavnova."_

"Here we go," Flynn muttered. He was immediately shushed by multiple people.

" _Yes, Lee, Durmstrang is situated right in the middle of a very mountainous region, and Mount Vulchavnova is its premier sight. It's rumored to have a fascinating but mysterious history, shrouded in death, dark magic and terrifying creatures."_

" _Yes, we've been told many hikers and climbers have gone missing while tackling the mountain—never to be seen again. Most of these people have been Muggles who never could have known the mountain is a hotbed for magical activity. Without a wand and a vast network of spell knowledge, you're likely a goner for even attempting it."_

Dominique felt her knees go weak as she slowly lowered herself to the floor beside the radio. What the fuck kind of death trap were they sending her brother into? The fact that she could only listen and imagine what she was seeing was even worse. Her imagination had a tendency to run away with things.

"They said without a wand," Jack said, nudging her in a reassuring manner. "It's Muggles that end up dead."

"Well, they actually said 'most' of them have been Muggles," Flyer interjected. "Meaning that some have been—"

"Shut up, Flyer!" Dominique and Sarah snapped at the same time. Flynn reached over and punched his brother on the shoulder.

" _The torches are approaching. Let me set the scene. Crowds of Durmstrang students are currently lining the end of the path as a small procession continues to walk toward what I'm going to call the mouth of the mountain. It's there that several flags and tents have been posted, as well as several more torches. The whole place had a very creepy glow to it."_

" _It sure does, Lee. It's clear that Durmstrang is attempting to go for eerie and foreboding rather than warm and cordial. I can only hope our champions aren't easily shaken."_

" _And let's talk about our champions for a quick second, Finnius. For those of you who have been living under a rock and haven't picked up a paper since the days of Voldemort—Hogwarts had two bright, capable individuals representing them in this tournament. Louis Weasley and Zahara Zabini. They're both seventeen, both top students. Zahara is a star Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team and recently received an impressive ranking in the Quidditch Training Trials over the summer. She's also a Prefect and Secretary of the Student Disciplinary Committee."_

" _Sounds quite accomplished. No surprise that she's here in this tournament."_

" _None at all. Then we have Louis Weasley, who is currently the Head Boy, which of course comes with all the responsibility that entails, including leading the Student Disciplinary Committee. He's apparently already taken and passed two of his N.E.W.T. subjects, and that was as a sixth-year."_

" _I didn't know you could do that."_

" _Apparently so. And yes if you were wondering, he is a member of that Weasley family which you may have heard about in the news a time or two. His mother was, or rather is, Fleur Delacour—now Weasley— who some may remember was a Champion in the last Triwizard Tournament back in 1994. Only she was the Beauxbatons' Champion."_

" _He's a bit of a legacy."_

" _He is. I remember watching his mother when I was in school. She didn't end up winning that tournament—that prize went to Harry Potter. Fun fact, Finnius, Harry Potter donated his prize winnings from that tournament to some good friends of mine, George and Fred Weasley. Along with being Louis Weasley's uncles, they took that money and ultimately developed what is now Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."_

" _Is that so? That is a fun fact."_

" _It is. And as many of our listeners know, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is a very generous sponsor of my usual evening program, so I'd like to take a minute to tell you about some of their more recent_ —"

Dominique sighed and glanced around the room. All over, kids were sectioned off hovering over radios. The younger groups were by the windows. She could pick out Albus, Rosie, and Freddie—that latter of whom seemed to be celebrating the fact that his father's store was now being talked about during this broadcast—were all surrounded by friends. James was just a table over, still dressed as he was at practice; also surrounded by friends and talking in low whispers. The older students seemed mostly congregated in the middle of the room, either listening to the same radio she was or paired off in groups of twos and threes nearby. It was a bizarre occurrence that everyone in the entire house was doing the exact same thing at the exact same time. Outside of a post-Quidditch celebration, this rarely happened.

" _Ladies and gentlemen, it seems as if the champions have arrived. I can just make out all of the pairs, and it seems as if they're being accompanied by a chaperone or a handler of sorts. Lee, can you make out who that is with our Hogwarts pair?"_

" _If I'm not mistaken, I do believe that is Minevra McGonagall. I'd heard she'd left Hogwarts as soon as she'd gotten news of the task occurring and it seems she has in fact made it here."_

Dominique exhaled. Ok, that was a good thing. Louis had someone he trusted there. He'd always gotten on well with McGonagall and she wouldn't stand for any funny business. It was almost strange how much calmer she immediately felt knowing McGonagall had made it on time.

" _Well, Lee, it looks as if Professor McGonagall is having a bit of a meeting with her students at the moment. She's pulled both Louis and Zahara to the side and they seem to be listening with great interest."_

" _You know, I think I'm going to—"_

There was a sudden shuffling sound, as if someone was moving quickly and letting the radio pick up every movement they were making. Muffled voices could be heard and one of them distinctly said, " _You can't._ " Another voice clearly said, " _I'm going to try,_ " before more shuffling sounds. Footsteps. Wind. Lots of movement.

"What's happening?" Flyer asked.

" _Professor McGonagall! Hi! Lee Jordan with the Daily Prophet Radio. I'd love a quick word."_

There was a response, but it was muffled and impossible to make out. It was almost as if everyone surrounding the radio had suddenly leaned forward in an attempt to get a better listen.

" _I understand, Professor, but we also got word that given the task being such short notice that the champions had no chance to speak to any friends or family. My listeners across Britain are currently tuning in, including—I'm told—the whole of Hogwarts. Perhaps the champions would like a quick word?"_

More shuffling, only this time, the voices on the other end suddenly became far clearer. In an instant, she could easily make out the distinct tone of Professor McGonagall speaking.

" _You have never been anything if not persistent, Mr. Jordan."_

" _Some things never change, Professor. But I promise I'll be quick. Hello to you two!"_

There were two quick, " _Hellos_ " that sounded both confused and amused, but Dominique picked Louis out immediately. A female voice—obviously Zara—asked, " _Are we on the radio?_ "

" _You are! Speak directly into the tip of the wand—just there. But yes, we are live with all of Britain, including your friends back at Hogwarts. I know they're all very curious as to how you're feeling and what your thoughts are right now. Zahara, let's start with you. How are you? What's going through your head?"_

" _Um, I…I'm feeling good. Yeah. Really good. I don't know. Everything's been happening really quickly. I had been getting ready to wind down for the night, then the news came that we were expected for the task. That was definitely a surprise, but yeah. I feel alright. I'm not quite sure what's happening, but I've been ready. I'm prepared."_

" _Excellent to hear. Is there anything you'd like to say to anyone out there?"_

" _Just hello to my parents, my brother, my grandparents, all of my family. Everyone at school. All of my friends. Erin, Diane, Reggie, everyone in my house. Everyone who's supporting me and has been writing to me. Thank you. I love you. I hope I can make you proud."_

" _Thank you, Zahara. Best of luck. And now, Louis."_

More shuffling as if people were moving around. Then a very quick, " _Hi."_

Dominique smiled immediately, though not as wide as Sarah did. It was the first time any of them had heard his voice in over a month; for her, it was an instant relief just to hear that small word from him. Someone in the common room had yelled a loud, "Woo!" and other people started clapping. Flynn and Jack and several others started shouting to keep it down so they could hear. Dominique simply moved closer to the radio.

" _And how are you? How do you feel?"_

" _Doing well. As well as I can be. I feel really confident. I took a nap earlier, so I even feel rested. We've been working and preparing for this and we'd thought maybe they'd try and surprise us, so I don't think either of us are too shocked by that. I think we were hoping it would be during the day, though."_

Dominique could hear Zara laugh and agree in the background.

" _I'm sure everyone back home is happy to hear you feel prepared. I know many of your friends and family would love to be here supporting you. I happen to know your parents very well—"_

" _Do you?"_

" _I do. And I know that everyone, especially your parents, are happy to hear your voice before you undertake such a challenge. Is there anything else you'd like to say to them?"_

Louis took a deep breath and exhaled very slowly. As confident as his tone sounded, Dominique sensed immediately in that breath he was more nervous than he was letting on. He was anxious. He was probably looking up at the sky at that very moment and thinking of how to escape.

" _Just want to say hi to my them, my parents, as well as both of my sisters. Sarah. All of my friends. I'm ready, I promise. I love you all. Um, hi to everyone at Hogwarts who's listening and supporting me. Especially everyone in Gryffindor. I...I miss everyone and I'm excited to come home soon."_

Cheers around the common room broke out at that. Sarah's eyes were tearing up. She looked directly at Dominique. "He sounds good. He sounds calm."

There was a murmur of agreement from everyone around them. Dominique nodded slowly, though she wasn't entirely sure that was true. She could hear the nerves in his voice as clear as day, but it wasn't her job to convince everyone otherwise.

" _Fine. Yes. Alright. I'm going, I'm going."_ More shuffling and movement. " _Hello everyone, Lee Jordan here for those of you just tuning in. I'm here at the Durmstrang Institute for the first task of the TriWizarding School tournament where I just was escorted away from the champions and told my place was back here away from the action. Shame, really, but of course I understand that this is a time for the champions to prepare—both mentally and physically. Myself and my colleague, Finnius Smith, will remain here providing you with all the details we can."_

" _Lee, glad to see they didn't kick you off the premises."_

" _I'd like to see them try."_

" _Always the risk taker. Now for our listeners back home, it seems as if everyone outside of the champions are now being asked to leave the area. Professor Minevra McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, can now be seen giving final words to both champions."_

" _And now the champions are lining up—"_

"Lining up to do what?" Jack asked, which had been the exact question Dominique had been asking herself. All she knew was that it was dark and cold and that they were standing at the base of some fucked up, magical death mountain. What exactly was the plan?

"— _each is being handed a torch, it seems."_

" _For those listening, we still haven't gotten clarification as to what's happening and what exactly the challenge involves, though it seems as if the Headmaster of Durmstrang is now approaching the crowds. We're going to try and listen to what he has to say."_

Their voices went silent. All that anyone could hear was the whistling of the wind and general shuffling noises. This went on for a minute. Then two. Three.

" _We're just waiting on their Headmaster to speak. We're still here. Oh, and wait, I think he's—"_

A deep voiced man suddenly could be heard speaking loudly in the background, but he was speaking a language that Dominique couldn't immediately place. German? No, Swedish? It was hard to hear him given the interference from the wind and general noises.

" _Headmaster Symanski is from Poland and naturally speaks Polish. Lee, do you happen to know Polish?"_

" _I haven't even finished learning English entirely, so no. But we are currently receiving a translation thanks to one of the show's producers, we just have to wait one minute on that, Durmstrang is composed of students from many different backgrounds, in case anyone was wondering. Language spells are frequently used throughout campus in order to bridge the confusion."_

" _We never had that problem at Hogwarts."_

" _We didn't. We're a bit more closed off at Hogwarts. Alright, our producer, Beth, is here—Beth, why don't you say it. I don't have to read it."_

More shuffling as a female's voice came on in replacement of the man's. " _Um, alright. Essentially, he's welcomed everyone here to witness the first task. He's giving a brief history of the mountain, which we heard from you both earlier. This mountain is rooted very deeply into the culture of Durmstrang, so it's fitting that it be the sight of the first task. The champions are expected to make their way up the mountain's side to retrieve a box that is about midway up, but this won't be easy. There are a lot of magical forces and creatures that they will encounter and it is important to stay vigilant. There have also been added challenges by the school."_

" _So, do they have to actually climb the mountain?"_

" _By the sound of things, only if they choose to? It may prove to be faster if they climb, but there are alternate paths up there. Those may take longer and no matter the way, everything has their challenges. He's now saying that the order in which you return will determine your points awarded. First one back will receive six points, and so on. The object is to retrieve the box and return back to this starting point as quickly as possible."_

Dominique started rubbing her eyes. Ever since the moment she'd heard of this horrifying mountain, she'd been afraid that the task would be something along the lines of challenging it and the forces that lived there. This seemed a bit next level for a bunch of seventeen-year-olds, but her mother had been forced to take on a dragon on her own, so Dominique shouldn't have been surprised.

" _It seems our champions are facing a nighttime mountain challenge full of peril and danger. They really will have their work cut out for them."_

" _Most definitely. Both champions from Hogwarts claimed to be prepared. I hope that still stands now that they have an idea of what they'll be up against—"_

An ear splitting whistle suddenly sounded, causing most people in the common room to jump or startle. Dominique covered her ears.

" _And we've started! Wow, I hadn't been expecting that, Lee. Took me entirely by surprise. The champions are off. All six of them are now disappearing into the thick treeline that leads up into the mountain. The glow of the torches they took with them is vanishing as I speak."_

" _They are. And just so I listeners are aware, we can no longer see a thing. Between the dense nature of the terrain and the fact that it's pitch black outside, this does not seem to be much of a spectator's event. I'm a little confused as to why Durmstrang dragged its entire student body down here to stare into the dark, but maybe this is their idea of a good time. Who am I to judge?"_

" _I'm curious as to how long they expect this challenge to go, Lee. Beth, did they give a timeline? She's shaking her head at me to say they did not. Well, alright. I suppose we wait."_

" _Listeners, Finnius and I will remain here until we have any updates for you so stay tuned in. Until then, we'll be going silent to see if we can track down any more details or points of interest. Stay tuned."_

The radio went fuzzy, the sound of crackling and popping of dead air now the only sounds to fill the common room. Dominique reached out to pick up the radio, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was expecting. That was it? What were they supposed to do? What was happening to her brother and the others?

"What the hell…?"

"What's going on?"

"That's it?"

"I thought we'd get to listen to the task."

"When are they coming back?

"That was stupid."

"We're just supposed to sit here and wait?" Sarah asked, looking paler than usual. "How am I supposed to sit here and wait when Louis' off on some mountain that could kill him and no one can tell me what's happening?"

"They can't follow them up there," Jack said. "What else could they do?"

"I don't know! Something!" she snapped, standing up from her seat and now walking off to the girls' dormitory. Dominique understood her feelings completely, but instead of flying off the handle she remained still. She was willing to be a bit patient. Her heart was thumping in her chest and her stomach felt as if it was tied into a thousand knots, but she could give them an hour before she started actually worrying.


	10. Hexes and Spades

Hours had passed and there was still no word as to what was happening. The task had started at just after seven, but now it was nearly ten and the only updates they'd gotten were a few interviews with some Durmstrang people that informed them how the task could go on for hours or even all night. One had said that the fastest someone could do it without interruption—as if it were a normal stroll up a typical mountain—would have been four to five hours. But again, that was with no interruptions or breaks to rest.

"They had to pick the night before the bloody Ravenclaw match to pull some all night task," Jack had mumbled at some point early on. Sarah—who'd returned back downstairs after some alone time—had yelled at him for even thinking about Quidditch at a time like this. Dominique decided not to mention that she had thought the same thing at one point.

The buzz around the common room had tapered in the time since the task had started. People had gotten bored of waiting and gone to their rooms. Some had pulled out homework; others games. Radios were still on throughout the room, and while everyone went immediately silent when someone spoke, every time thus far had turned out to be nothing more than filler. The room would quickly resume to what it had been doing.

Dominique passed the time at first by watching Jack, Flynn, Flyer, and some others play cards for an hour—not interested in playing herself. She then took a portable radio with her to the showers since she still hadn't bothered to change since getting back from practice. She'd come back and sat with Jack and the rest of the Quidditch team while they had a mini-meeting to discuss plays for the following day since everyone was there anyway. She'd paced the room with Sarah once she'd started up again after they both felt too antsy to sit any longer. She'd run up and down the stairs to the girls' dormitory to burn some nervous energy. She'd even been close to attempting some homework, but she knew right away that her mind wasn't there.

At half past ten, she plopped back onto the sofa beside Jack, who was back to playing cards with Flynn and Flyer. As soon as she sat, Flyer asked her, "You any good at Hexes and Spades?"

She looked at him in a sleepy sort of way. "I haven't played that in ages. But no, I wasn't ever very good."

"We're trying to teach him," Flynn said, gesturing to Jack. "He's getting the hang of it, but we need a fourth to properly show him. Interested?"

She shook her head. "Not really in the mood."

Jack reached over and gave her knee a friendly pat, just as Flyer said, "You know who's really good? Surprisingly good." He looked at his brother. "Fee."

Flynn nodded. "Oh yeah, shit. Fiona will crush everyone. And she'll definitely play because she's got a huge fucking crush on Jack."

Flyer was already nodding in agreement as Jack brushed them both off, looking a bit embarrassed for her. "No, she doesn't..."

"Yes, she does," Flynn and Flyer said in unison, laughing together as Flyer added. "Fucking mad about you. Life stops when you're over at the house. Watch how fast she decides to help out if you're involved." He stood and called across the room. "Oi! Fee. Come here." He looked back at Jack. "Watch and see."

"Yeah, if she's your partner, that'll actually balance everything out since you're shitty and she's good," Flynn said.

Jack seemed amused by the idea of it all, as petite, little Fiona Taggart suddenly appeared with annoyance and curiosity directed at both of her brothers. Behind her, Dominique saw that Rosie Weasley had tagged along. Rosie immediately gave Dominique an encouraging smile, as if she could feel how stressed she currently felt.

"What do you want?" Fiona asked both of her brothers, though the annoyance in her tone immediately dropped as she glanced around the rest of the group.

"Hexes and Spades," Flyer said. "Come on. Show us what you got."

Fiona hesitated. "I…We were reading magazines—"

"So, read them later."

"I don't really want to play—"

"Jack, here, needs a partner and we need someone good who can actually show him the game properly," Flynn said. "But if you don't want to—"

Fiona's interest was piqued instantly, but Flynn had already turned to Rosie. "Other Weasley, you know how to play?"

"She has a name," Dominique said.

"And it's Rose," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Not that I'd care for you to learn it."

"Don't be an arse to my friends," Fiona said to her brother. "And I'll play. But...only to…" She averted her eyes. "Help Jack." When she looked back at Flynn and Flyer she added, "Not as a favor for you two." She stopped and awkwardly stared at Jack. "Um, you need to...I mean, I need to…" She started making hand gestures.

"If she's your partner you need to move over so she can sit," Dominique said, nudging Jack. "You need to work together."

"Oh, sorry," Jack said, sliding over to make room as his entire body brushed up against hers. Dominique knew she should move over to be considerate, but she chose not to. It also didn't seem to bother him.

Fiona slowly sat and took the cards her brother was now dealing. In a quick fashion, she began arranging them in a very particular way before glancing over at Jack's cards and doing the same for him. At that moment, Rosie took the opportunity to sit on Dominique's other side. She smiled again as she pushed her red hair out of her face. "How are you?"

"Wish I could get some news."

Rosie nodded. "For as fast as the task was to start, it sure has been slow since."

She made a noise of agreement, but didn't say anything. From beside her, Fiona had just played several hexes on both of her brothers in a way that made one groan and the other mumble, "How does she always…?"

"I bet Louis' fine," Rosie said. "He's one of the cleverest people I know."

Dominique wanted to point out that she was twelve and, really, how many people could she have possibly met in her short lifetime? But again, she chose to say nothing. She instead was staring at the radio and willing someone's voice to come on with some information.

"And you've got the Ravenclaw match tomorrow," Rosie continued. "What if this task goes all night?"

"Then I'll need a lot of coffee in the morning. But let's hope it wraps up by midnight."

She smiled. "You know, I was thinking of trying out for the Quidditch team."

That had been an unexpected comment. For as long as she'd known Rosie, she'd never been particularly interested in Quidditch. She seemed to enjoy watching it and going to matches well enough, but she'd never pegged her as being interested in actually playing. She'd never even seen her on a broom. "Really? When did that start?"

"Last year, during flying lessons. I'd never really tried, but turns out I'm pretty good on a broom. James says I'm faster than he'd expected and I have good control."

"You've been flying with James?"

She nodded. "Over the summer. I asked him for some help and some tips."

"You could have asked me."

"You're busy," Rosie said with a shrug, which Dominique found rather funny seeing as she'd spent most of her summer being the opposite of busy—unless Rosie counted being lazy and fucked up with her friends as busy. "But he helped. Aunt Ginny had lots of pointers, which was great because I think I'd like to be a Chaser."

"You mean you don't want to be a Seeker, too?" Dominique asked, half joking.

"No, that's just James. Speaking of which, I still can't believe he…" She rolled her eyes. "I told him not to do it. That it was obviously your spot and to wait. But he never listens." She looked over at where Jack was now listening to Fiona explain something to him with great concentration. She lowered her voice. "James said that he volunteered to be a Chaser, but I've also heard that Jack threatened to beat him up. Is that true?"

Dominique reached up to rub her face. "It was James' choice. No one threatened anyone."

"That's what I thought," Rosie said. "He doesn't seem like the type. Fee swore up and down he would never because he's the nicest person. Doesn't know why he hangs out with her brother since he's such a prat."

Dominique chuckled as she glanced over to where Jack was mucking up his turn with a bad hand, but Fiona didn't seem to care in the least. She was staring at him rather moon-eyed, not even trying to be subtle.

They watched Flyer finally get some hexes down, only for Fiona to trump one of them with a pair of spades. She nudged Jack as if to signal for him to do something, though when he looked confused as to what that was, she physically plucked cards out of his hand and laid them down.

Dominique looked back at Rosie. "Why didn't you try out this year? We needed two Chasers."

"I don't feel I'm ready," she said, her eyes still on the card game. "Maybe next year. James says he's switching to Seeker and that a Chaser spot will open up. I figure I can try for that because another spot won't open up until I'm a fifth-year." She sighed. "Though, that might be a good thing because it would give me time to get better. What year did you make the team?"

"Third. You can do some damage as a third-year. Trust me."

"You had years to prepare and get good. I've only just started last year. I have so far to go. It's different."

Dominique reached over and tapped Jack. "Tell her what year you made the Quidditch team."

He looked up from his cards and over to her, a little surprised by the question. "Um, third."

"And tell her when was the first time you ever picked up a broom."

"First-year," he said, his face curious as to why she was asking. "During flying lessons."

"And how much time did you spend working on learning to play Quidditch between second and third-year?"

His expression turned pensive, as if he was thinking about that. "You and I worked a few hours almost every day. So, a lot of time. I spent that entire summer learning Quidditch."

"And what's your current ranking as a Beater?" she asked, throwing him a funny smile before looking back at Rosie. "On the international level, mind you."

His expression was very much a mixture of confusion and amusement. "What's with the questions?"

"I'm proving a point. Just answer."

He sighed. "A nine."

"Out of…?" Dominique probed, poking him to finish. "Not everyone knows the specifics, Jack."

"Out of ten, alright." He laughed a little as he threw Dominique a funny grin that told her he was done with this little exchange. "You know this. You can tell her. I'm trying to learn how to play this."

Dominique turned back to Rosie. "As you can see, it can be done. And you're already ahead of him given that you've spent last summer working. All he could do before I got a hold of him was fly. Barely even knew the rules."

"I knew the rules," he said, just as Fiona once again took it upon herself to play his cards. She'd thrown all of Jack's spades in a move that won them the game, which garnered groans from both of her brothers and a laugh from Jack. "Wow, you really are good at this."

She smiled and blushed at the compliment before she shrugged modestly and stood. She then threw both of her brothers a disparaging look, muttered, "You two are rubbish," before she gestured to Rosie to say that they could go now.

Rosie stood, ready to follow her friend. "Maybe if you're not busy sometime, you can help me work on some things. I don't know anyone who knows Quidditch like you do."

"That's because nobody does," said Jack.

"Yeah, I'd love to," Dominique said. "Seriously. Rosie, come down to Open Pitch next time. Let's see what you can do."

She smiled and thanked her, gesturing to the radio. "Here's hoping we get some word soon." With that, she followed in the direction Fiona had gone off in.

"It is now eleven," Flynn said, checking his watch. "We've been listening for hours and—"

The static on the radio disappeared and suddenly the voice of one of the announcers cut through crackling and popping. Dominique sat up immediately, as did most of the people within ear shot. There was suddenly a lot of shushing and "shut it!"

_Good evening to our listeners. Lee Jordan here with an update in the TriWizarding School Challenge that is currently unfolding at the Durmstrang Institute. Our champions started this task roughly four hours ago, and while we haven't had much to report, I am happy to say that the first champion has returned._

Lots of talking and sudden speculation around the room. Who was it? Which school? What was happening?

_We're just waiting on word as to whom exactly it was, given that we weren't near the finish line at the time it occurred, but we do know that it was a male._

"Please be Louis," Dominique said to herself. "Please be Louis."

_Finnius had gone to seek confirmation and it seems—oh, here we go. It seems the first champion to finish this task was Aurick Moser of the Durmstrang Institute._

There was suddenly a lot of booing. Someone yelled out, "Bollocks" while another person loudly proclaimed, "Surprise, surprise."

Jack tossed the deck of cards he'd been holding to the table in an aggravated manner. "You've got to be…" He shook his head. "They mentioned earlier that the fastest this task could be done was about four hours. And then the person who managed to do it in four hours is one of the ones who goes to fucking school there? Anyone else think that's suspect?"

"All I know," Flynn muttered, "is that Hogwarts better have some tricks up their sleeves because Durmstrang sure doesn't seem to give a fuck about playing fair."

"Where's Sarah?" Jack asked, glancing around the room.

Dominique looked as well. She'd left her pacing near the portrait hole before coming over here, but she was nowhere to be seen now. She looked from table to table and chair to chair, checking each group and clique of friends to see if perhaps Sarah had stopped by to join or talk to someone. She wasn't anywhere to be found.

She stood and told everyone she'd check upstairs, though all she found up there was Natalie and Eleanor, both sitting on their beds. With them were two sixth-year girls Dominique knew were called Gemma and Seraphina. A sound of a radio could be heard, only it wasn't turned into the task. It was instead playing music.

"Hey, Nicki," Natalie said, turning to greet her. "Any news yet?"

Dominique said nothing as her eyes swept Sarah's empty bed. "The Durmstrang bloke finished."

"Seriously?" Natalie asked, gesturing for Eleanor to play with the radio. "We kept checking back, but we could only listen to the static for so long. So, only him? No signs of Louis or the others?"

She shook her head. She already knew that if Natalie was here, Sarah wouldn't be; especially given her current mood. She was at the point where she was snapping at people like Jack, for whom she always got on with. People like Natalie didn't stand a chance.

When she turned to leave, it was Gemma who suddenly said, "If you're looking for Sarah, she's probably in the boys' dormitory."

"Why would she be there?"

"Because Kenley and Addy convinced Tommy and Benji to open the Firewhiskey they were hiding. And Sarah heard them and asked if she could have some. They all walked off together, so I assume that's where they went."

Dominique hummed. That made as much sense as anything else. She was about to excuse herself to check when the static on the radio disappeared and the man called Lee's voice carried throughout the room.

 _We have another champion crossing the finish line, and from where I'm sitting, I can positively identify Zahara Zabini_.

Dominique almost felt as if she could hear the cheers coming down from Slytherin. She could hear quite a few coming from her own common room.

She was of course happy for Zara, but she found it surprising that she would have beaten Louis knowing both of their track records. Louis was clever and scrappy. He worked well under pressure and was keen with his wand. Zara, she was fine with all of those things, but there had been a reason people had been surprised she'd been chosen from the Goblet but not been surprised by Louis. How had she beaten him? Unless something had happened?

 _W_ e _'re going to try to get an interview with Zahara as soon as she's gotten some time to rest after, what we have to assume, was an exhausting several hours. Perhaps she can shed some insight into what happened up on that mountain._

Dominique turned and rushed back downstairs, immediately noticing that Jack and Flynn were waiting for her to return. It was Jack who jumped to ask, "Did you hear?"

She nodded. "If Zara's finished, Louis can't be too far behind." She looked him straight in the eyes. "Right?"

"Right," he agreed, nodding quickly. "Probably not too much longer. Just a matter of time now."

They both stood there with anxious energy pouring off of them. Dominique was starting to feel her chest get tight. Where was he?

She sat back down on the sofa and began nervously bouncing her fingers off of her thumb. They had said they were going to come back and talk to Zara and get some insight as to what was happening. She desperately needed to hear that. Minutes passed by—first five, then ten. It had taken twenty minutes of her sitting and now bouncing her knee up and down before the voice on the radio clicked back.

_Listeners, I'm here with the remarkable Zahara Zabini. Second place finisher in the first task of this tournament with a time of four hours and twenty-two minutes. Zahara, how do you feel? You look a little banged up._

_I...I feel...I don't know how I feel. I'm glad to be done._ None of Zara's usual tone of peppy, smugness could be heard. She sounded hollow. Blank.

_That is quite a large bandage on your leg? Were you badly injured?_

_Um...I don't...It's nothing serious, I don't think. None of the Healers thought so, at least. It was just a deep scratch._

_Would you like to tell us how you got that?_

_No._

Flynn made a face that seemed a little horrified. It was hard not to feel that way given the emptiness of Zara's words. She sounded shocked and dazed and nothing like her normal self. Dominique glanced at Jack, who was looking at the ground with his head rested on his hands.

_Zahara can you tell us what exactly you had to do? What kind of strategy you implemented?_

_I…I didn't have much of a strategy at first because I didn't know what to expect. There were just a lot of things and...you very quickly went into survival mode. I did what I had to do and eventually I found myself on the trail of Aurick. My instinct told me to follow him since he probably knew his way around. I suppose that was my strategy. Follow him and hope he led me out._

_And that seems to have paid off seeing as you came in second. Any idea how the others are doing out there? Who might be coming next?_

_No. No idea. I haven't seen any of them since before I made it to my box. I'd stuck with Louis for awhile, but we got separated after a chimera attacked us both._

Dominique found herself inhaled sharply. Flynn said, "Did she say a chimera?" While Jack muttered, "Fuck," under his breath.

_That sounds like quite the ordeal. I see Professor McGonagall is making me wrap this up, but I do hope you can take solace in your impressive placement. Everyone out there is incredibly proud of your accomplishment. A tremendous job tonight. Zahara._

_Yeah. Thanks._

_Ladies and gentlemen, that was Zahara Zabini, who had just taken second place in the first task of the tournament. She's a bit banged up, but has shown incredible strength and courage. We now sit back and wait for more champions to arrive back here. We'll keep you posted._

The common room was eerily quiet. Dominique took a slow glance around and noticed people were looking at her, though as soon as she caught them they looked away. They'd returned to slowly turning pages in their magazines or scratching their quills. Soon, the quiet sounds of low voices started to build again.

"Ok," Jack said, sitting up. "Louis did not get mauled by a chimera so let's just put that shit out of our heads right now."

"I wasn't thinking he did," Flynn said. "But now that you said it…"

Jack looked over at Dominique and gave her leg a reassuring squeeze. "He'll be back any minute. You know that."

She nodded, taking another deep breath. Her chest still felt so heavy, but she had to tell herself it was too early to worry. They'd only just passed the four hour mark.

"You never found Sarah up there, then?" Jack asked, gesturing toward the girls' dorms.

"No, because she's up there—" She pointed to the boys' dorms, "with a bunch of sixth-years. They're apparently drinking the night away."

"What?" Jack asked, though Flynn had already stood as if he was planning to follow up on this story.

"They're taking shots of Firewhiskey. Tommy and his friends invited Sarah along to calm her down."

"Oh shit, I want some," Flynn said, heading toward the stairs.

Jack's expression had gone from worried to angry. "We have Ravenclaw tomorrow," he said as he stood up. "It's bad enough no one's sleeping tonight. Now I'm going to get Tommy hungover?"

Dominique stood as well, happy for the distraction. "I'd be more worried about Kenley. At least you can carry Tommy's weight."

"She's up there, too?!" Jack asked, now picking up the pace to follow Flynn up the stairs. "Even when she's at a hundred percent I can't be certain she'll perform."

"Wait," Dominique said as she followed after him, "are you finally admitting that—?"

"Not the time," Jack said, reaching the top and walking directly to the sixth-year room. He stopped just outside, but didn't immediately knock or enter. Both she and Flynn stared at him.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked.

"I don't exactly want to storm in there like I'm some sort of buzzkill," he murmured. "But I also need the two of them to not be getting drunk."

She rolled her eyes. "You want me to yell at them, don't you?"

His expression seemed to say that now that she'd mentioned it, that wasn't such a bad idea. Flynn muttered, "You are quite scary."

"Move," Dominique said, reaching out to thump on the door loudly.

Silence for a long moment. A good thirty-seconds passed before the sound of someone finally handling the doorknob followed. Slowly it turned, opening ever so slightly to reveal Tommy staring out of the sliver of a space he'd created with the door. Once it registered who he was looking at, he pulled it open the rest of the way. "Oh, it's just you. I thought it was someone important."

"You realize if it were someone important, they don't need permission," Dominique said, stepping over the threshold to find the sight that Gemma had described perfectly. Four sixth-years and Sarah, all scattered around the room. Sarah was sitting on the edge of an unoccupied bed, fiddling with her radio. Kenley was sitting alone on someone else's bed, while the other two, Benji and Adaline, looked quite cozy together on a third bed.

Sarah looked up in a drunk sort of way, and also as if she'd been crying recently. "Hey, it's my people." Her tone was surprisingly normal and not at all what Dominique had expected. Her eyes were glassy, which meant she'd had at least three drinks—maybe even more.

"What the fuck?" Jack said, walking over to the bedside table between the bed Kenley was sitting on and the one Sarah was. It was there a half empty bottle of Firewhiskey sat. He picked it up and turned it around on Kenley and Tommy—the latter of whom was now taking the spot beside Kenley on that bed.

"You want some?" Tommy offered. "Help yourself." He looked over at Flynn and Dominique and made a gesture that they were also welcome to some.

"Don't mind if I do," Flynn said, taking the bottle from Jack. "Do we have glasses? Am I swigging from the bottle?"

"Benji, where are the—?" Tommy pointed across the room toward his friend, though his gaze quickly settled back on Jack. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You do remember what's happening tomorrow morning?"

"Ravenclaw," Kenley said, though a meek smile crossed her face as she spoke. Dominique knew for a fact she was a nervous smiler. Every time she'd rowed with her, Kenley had a tendency to smile while getting yelled at. Some people probably found it charming, but it annoyed her tremendously.

"You can get drunk every night of the bloody year," Dominique said. "You're sixth-years, you have nothing better to do. But you pick tonight? You think Madden or Giggleswick or Harper are getting drunk right now?"

"They probably should be," Kenley mumbled.

"I feel like I'm getting told off by my parents," Tommy muttered. "And I've only had two so far. I can handle a few and still get out there tomorrow and be fine."

"I've only had one," Kenley said, looking up at Jack with her pretty green eyes and long eyelashes that so many of these boys got suckered into falling right into. Even Jack clearly wasn't impervious to her since he'd fallen for it once before. Dominique did notice that he was focusing all of his energy onto Tommy and not her.

"It's been a stressful night," Tommy continued, looking from Jack to Dominique. "I'd expect you two, of all people, to get that. We just wanted to relax and have a couple." He pointed over to Sarah. "She seriously needed to relax. We did her a favor."

Dominique looked over at Sarah, who wasn't even paying attention and just staring into space. She was an entirely different person from the one downstairs who'd been pacing back and forth for an hour. "How much has she had?"

"She'd had a little. But then Zara came on the radio and then she had a lot," Kenley said with wide eyes. "She chugged straight from the bottle."

"Did you hear the part where she and Louis got attacked by a chimera?" Sarah asked, reaching over to grab her half full glass of Firewhiskey. She was wobbly and a bit shaky, but managed to raise it up and drink the rest of it down.

Jack and Dominique exchanged quick glances. She couldn't even blame her. She wished she could do the same thing right now. Drink and drink and drink until she couldn't feel the tightness in her chest any longer; until she could think about something other than her brother and whether or not he'd been mauled or hurt or worse. Had it not been for the match tomorrow, she would have been several glasses deep herself.

Jack looked back at Tommy. "She can drink the whole bloody bottle for all I care. I don't need her out there on the pitch tomorrow."

"I can handle it," Tommy said. "Fuck, Jack, I think you need a drink."

"Of course I fucking do," he snapped back, his cool demeanor that he'd been maintaining all evening suddenly gone. "You think you're having a stressful night. My best friend is on a fucking mountain with chimera attacking him and I have no idea what's happened to him. I have a season defining match again our biggest rivals tomorrow with scouts coming out to watch me, and on top of that I'm in here fucking babysitting you two in the hopes that you don't play like absolute shit tomorrow. So yeah, I need a fucking drink!"

No one said anything. The only noise was the static coming from the radio in Sarah's hands. Dominique caught Jack's eyes and smiled at him, as if to silently tell him well done. He didn't return it; he still seemed caught up in the moment.

Everyone in that room—well, the ones that actually knew Jack—had seen that side of him before. Kenley and Tommy had seen it plenty last year when Dominique had been on the receiving end of it. It was rare that he got angry, and she was happy that this time it wasn't aimed at her. Kenley was now staring at the floor, while Tommy glared at him.

"Fuck it, I don't care what you do," Jack said, turning to walk out of the room. "If you show up tomorrow looking like shit, you're off the team."

"What?" asked Tommy. "Seriously?"

Jack said nothing more. He'd walked straight out the door, passing Dominique on his way out. She glanced back at Tommy and Kenley, noticing that the former's jaw was tense. He was angry. "What the fuck has gotten into him?"

"If you were listening, he just told you," said Dominique. "He's fought and defended both of you from day one, and trust me, you've both needed defending." She turned to leave. "Don't be fuck ups."

She exited then, heading toward the stairs—though something told her to stop outside of the seventh-year boys' room. The door was ajar and she pushed it open the rest of the way. On his bed, Jack was sprawled out with his arms behind his head and his gaze toward the ceiling. He glanced up with the sound of the door creaking open, though he quickly let his head fall back down.

"You alright?" she asked.

"So, much for not being a buzzkill."

"You did what any good captain would have done. You told them off for fucking with your team," she said as she went an plopped herself down on the foot of his bed. "They were being shits. You have to know that was less about being stressed and more about Tommy and Kenley wanting to snog and hoping alcohol would move things along."

His eyebrows jumped up quickly; his face acknowledged that was probably true.

"And, you didn't say anything that wasn't true. If anything, it should be me, you, and Sarah getting pissed and attempting to make this night a little less awful."

There was a trace of a smile on Jack's face. "If it were any other night, I would be."

"That makes two of us," she said as a prolonged silence fell between them; with him staring up at the ceiling and her staring vacantly at Louis' empty bed. It hadn't been slept on in weeks. It seemed particularly empty right now.

"You think he's alright?" Jack finally asked.

She didn't say anything right away, and instead found herself staring at her brother's perfectly arranged pillows. "I hope so." She cleared her throat. "Something tells me he is. I can feel it."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't explain it, but something in me...knows? I hate to be cliche, but maybe it's a twin thing. If that makes any sense."

Jack pulled himself up to look at her. "It makes as much sense as most of the things around here."

She smiled a little. "It's all I have to go on. I have to trust it." She glanced over at the bedside table that sat between Jack and Louis' beds. On it were her brother's radio, some books, several Nymph Chasers records, and some spare quills. It was a very small and abandoned museum of Louis.

"I knew I should have taken a nap earlier," Jack mumbled as he began rubbing his face. "Something told me to, but I decided to work on Herbology instead."

She made a noncommittal noise. "Hey, how do you know they'll be scouts out there tomorrow?"

He pulled himself all the way up into a sitting position. "There are a couple at every match, but they'd mentioned at the Trials that their goal is to make it to the big matches. Especially if they've got multiple ranked players. Tomorrow it's us and Giggleswick. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor is the big match at the moment. They'll be there."

She bit her lip in a nervous sort of way. She wouldn't be able to sleep until she knew what had happened to Louis, but she needed to sleep or else she was going to play like absolute shit tomorrow. Unlike Jack, who seemed to function whether he got eight hours of sleep or three, she needed a decent amount.

"This task has to wrap up soon," he said, suddenly reaching for the bedside table. He put his hand on Louis' radio and flipped it on, now moving the dials. "Did you catch the station?"

She shook her head and moved up the length of the bed to get a look at the dial. "It's one of the Daily Prophet stations. Not the main one. I think it's—" She reached out to turn the knob, causing Jack to retreat his hand and let her take over. She was just about to pass one when a Nymph Chaser's song—Louis' favorite one—caught her attention. She looked over at Jack, seeing he'd caught it as well. They both began to smile. She decided to let it play.

"I'm taking that as a sign that he's alright," Jack said as he leaned back on his pillow.

"I don't know if I believe in signs, but it makes me happy to hear it."

"You don't believe in signs, but you believe in your twin connection?"

"I know the twin thing is real," she said, sitting herself down on his bed in the space between him and the radio. "I've felt it my entire life."

He cracked a smile, but didn't push things any further. She pulled her leg up underneath her, causing her knee to now poke him in the hip; he didn't seem to care and made no movement to adjust. She attempted to focus on the song—listening to the lyrics that she'd heard blast out of Louis' room hundreds of times before—but she was now acutely aware of how close they were sitting.

"I should have just walked out of Tommy's room with the Firewhiskey," he finally said.

"And done what with it?"

He shrugged. "Taken a shot."

"Hypocrite."

"Do as I say, not as I do," he said, stretching his legs out. "But I didn't. I left it and they're probably over there getting wasted and talking shit about me."

"That'd be a dumb move in front of your friends."

"Some friends," he mumbled. "They're still over there."

"I'd give Sarah a break tonight. You said it yourself, you'd be over there getting drunk if you could. We're all a little out of sorts tonight." She paused. "Now, Flynn…"

He laughed. "Flynn goes where the party is. I'm not going to pretend that if I were falling off a cliff and he had a chance to get drunk or save me, he wouldn't pick the drinking."

"There's a reason it's ended up being you, me, Louis, and Sarah and...not him. No loyalty out of that one. And he's a dick."

"True," he said as yet another Nymph Chaser's song kicked up. That seemed random. Was there a special block on or was this really some weird sign from the universe trying to tell them something?

"I'm sometimes surprised how it all turned out," Jack continued. "With us—all of us. As a first-year, it was me, Louis and Flynn and we were so tight. Not that we aren't now, but it's different. Louis is...Louis. He's caught up in everything there is to be caught up in, Flynn would rather have a hundred random friends than a few real ones. Then you and Sarah got involved." He looked over at her. "Remember how you wouldn't even talk to us back then? You were always so annoyed by me and Flynn."

She begrudged a smile as she remembered that. It was true during their first year—especially early on—she had stuck to Louis like glue. He'd gone and made new friends and she resented them. She was annoyed that both Jack and Flynn were always jeopardizing her brother's time—when in reality, it had actually been her. When she was eleven, as far as she was concerned, Louis and she were a set; if you wanted one, you got the other. It hadn't helped that she didn't make friends as easily as he did, so she did feel quite possessive over him. It wasn't until he actually sat her down about halfway through the year and told her she needed to make her own friends and give him space that she'd backed off.

"You and I," Jack continued, "didn't have a conversation without you rolling your eyes at me until second-year."

"That's not true," she said. "I warmed up to you once you showed some Quidditch potential the summer before second-year." She slowly smiled at him. "Once I had some use for you. Notice I still haven't warmed up to Flynn and still roll my eyes when he talks."

He laughed.

"And it wasn't just you," she said. "I didn't even like Sarah much at first. She and I barely talked before second-year. Though once I took the time and got to know all of you, I got better. It helped that once I got in with Sarah, she brought along the other girls that you boys were always suddenly so keen on. That's when Louis wanted me around again."

Jack had a nostalgic sort of amusement on his face. "Yeah, Louis was always telling us, 'Oh, Nic can bring her friends. We'll just ask her."'

She rolled her eyes. "He wasn't even subtle. But I never cared. I was just happy Louis and I were back to getting on the way we used to. Even if I had to sit there and watch him awkwardly try and flirt with everyone."

"I don't remember him ever trying to flirt," he said. "I remember that he'd smile at some girl and they'd be dating ten seconds after that. It was always like that for him."

"It was annoying."

"If you thought it was annoying, try being a goofy thirteen-year-old boy who already felt out of place because he's a Muggleborn, and every girl you work up the courage to even talk to wants to know what Louis' deal is." He put on a funny voice, as if he were impersonating a girl, "Oh, you're his best friend, aren't you? Does he talk about anyone?"

She laughed at his impression, which caused him to also laugh before adding. "I'm telling you, that's how it was."

"Poor you," she teased. "But it's not as if that happens anymore."

"Because he has a girlfriend," he muttered. "Girls are forced to look elsewhere. It gives the rest of us a shot."

Her expression turned doubtful. "Or maybe it's because you're fit, too."

She'd meant to say it—it hadn't been a mistake or a slip of the tongue. It was the truth. Her feelings for him aside, Jack wasn't anything but conventionally attractive these days. He was tall, but not too tall. He was muscular, but not too muscular. He'd worked hard to be in-shape and it clearly paid off. His dark-blonde hair always looked really soft and fell in just the right way across his head. He had really friendly eyes and a kind smile that you couldn't help but get a bit lost in. Yes, her brother was apparently a stud—so she was told—but no one was denying Jack wasn't fit now; no one with functioning eyes was going to sweep him to the side to get closer to Louis these days.

Jack was looking at her as if questioning whether he'd heard her correctly. "Thank...you?" he said with an awkward laugh. "I...I'm trying to think of something funny to say, but I—"

"I wasn't trying to be funny." She looked away and started focusing on a loose thread on his duvet. "I was only saying that plenty of girls would prefer you to Louis. For some, Louis had…" she hesitated, "well, he was never an option. You would be their choice."

She felt his eyes still on her as she continued to pluck at the thread; attempting to act as if this conversation was as breezy as talking about the weather when it couldn't have been further from that. This had gone deeper than she'd originally planned and she wasn't sure how that had happened. One minute they'd been talking about Quidditch and her brother, and now she was telling him she thought he was attractive. If she didn't reign it in, she was going to say something really stupid.

The song finally switched to another band. Outside of the sounds of a female singer now crooning some ballad about being consumed by a love spell, it was silent. She really wanted to look at him to gauge his reaction, but she couldn't do it. She was, however, seconds away from yanking this thread out due to sheer anxious energy.

Jack reached out all of the sudden and grabbed her hand; she assumed he was attempting to stop her from messing with the thread, but it quickly dawned on her that the gesture had absolutely nothing to do with that. He was slowly wrapping his fingers around hers. He'd taken a leap there that signified immediately that things may not have been as platonic as either of them assumed at the start of this chat. She couldn't do much more than stare at their interlaced fingers now; she was holding her breath.

"Sometimes," he said slowly, his voice low. "It's not Louis who's the problem. Sometimes there's someone else entirely."

He was talking about Davies. Shit. She'd actually forgotten he existed. She hadn't even thought of him in ages, which wasn't ideal since she was supposed to see him that Sunday. It had been the day they'd decided to meet after she'd finally written him back. Why had she done that? She didn't want to see him, especially now given all the very clear signals she was now getting. She needed to cut those ties for good. She needed to move on.

"Maybe he's not important," she said, finally looking up at him. "Maybe he never was."

His face flinched a bit, as if he wasn't sure he believed that. "Hard to think that when he doesn't seem to disappear."

"Maybe it's about time he does," she said quietly, looking back down at their connected fingers.

This moment could turn into several different scenarios depending on her actions in the next few seconds. She could kiss him—which is what she wanted to do since the signs were there; she could turn away and let the moment simmer—which she most likely would do since she didn't have the actual courage to kiss him; or she could get up and walk away—which she probably should do to keep herself from fucking everything up, but that wasn't happening either. There was a force holding her to that bed.

But a sudden distraction came when the door to the room creaked open, causing the bubble around both of them to burst. She pulled her hand away and turned, now feelings smacked back into reality.

It was Sarah pushing the door open with tears streaming down her very red face. Dominique then remembered the entire reason they were even sitting here to begin with. For a few brief minutes, she'd forgotten; the pressure and anxiety of the evening had just vanished during that moment with Jack. But now it was all back; it was worse once she saw Sarah's face.

"Did something happen?" Jack asked as they both reached to adjust the radio in an urgent manner. How had they gotten so distracted that they forgot to put the bloody news station back on?

"Did you not...?" Sarah asked, staring at them both. "Aren't you listening?"

"Sarah, what happened?" Dominique asked, rounding back on her and leaving the radio to Jack.

She sniffled loudly. "The Beauxbatons bloke and the Durmstrang girl both got back. There has been absolutely no sign of Louis and there is now word that his box wasn't even collected. The radio said that if he doesn't return soon, they'll have to send a search out."


	11. Count for Double

Rocks fell, obstructing Dominique from her only source of light. Then blackness.

She woke gasping for breath as she shot straight up and clutched the sides of the mattress below her. She was sweating and clammy; she was cold. She looked around and the room was dark, but not as dark as the blackness in her dream. She was in a dormitory, but not hers. What was happening?

As she struggled to catch her breath, the wildest thought now consuming her was that she had a dream. She'd never dreamed. It was something she'd never been capable of doing. While her brother was plagued with awful anxiety driven nightmares and terrors that required him to take a potion to even sleep at night, she never properly dreamed—and she certainly never had nightmares. She would get flashes of mundane visions from her day, but actual creations of her mind never occurred while she slept. But that had certainly been a vision; one she now couldn't remember, only feel. The fear was still present.

She calmed herself, now taking in her surroundings. She was in the boys' dormitory. She'd come in last night to talk to Jack, and then a drunk Sarah had come in with news of Louis still being unaccounted for. Sarah had proceeded to crawl into Louis' bed and bawl her eyes out, which Dominique went and—in a rare show of affection—climbed in with her and let her cry in her arms. They, along with Jack—and eventually Flynn, who came in much later—had sat there listening to the radio for updates, which never came. Sarah had continued to cry, Dominique had fought off a few tears herself, while Jack either paced the room or silently sat in his own bed with his head in his hands.

Sarah had eventually passed out from the alcohol and the crying. Dominique had planned to sit there in her brother's bed and continue to wait for news, but she'd drifted off as well. The last she remembered looking at the clock, it had been three o'clock in the morning. Now, the clock read six and the sky outside of the nearest window was turning purple from the new day's light.

She stood up, feeling an immediate need to walk. She'd been asleep for three hours, so who knew what had happened; she was hoping someone was around to ask. She wanted to believe that she'd missed the news of Louis' return, but something in the pit of her stomach told her it hadn't happened. Other than having a feeling, she knew that someone would have told her if it had.

She looked over to see that Sarah was still out cold, clutching an old shirt of Louis' as the radio she'd been carrying around all evening was now silent and just out of the reach of her lifeless hand. On his bed, Flynn was asleep, though he was lying on top of his blankets in his clothes and shoes still on—as if he'd never planned to sleep, he just had.

Jack's bed was empty. It looked as if he'd been in it, though it was still made. She looked around the room, as if expecting him to be standing somewhere nearby, but he wasn't anywhere to be found. She quickly rubbed her eyes, feeling an odd mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline. Physically she wanted to drop back into bed and sleep, but mentally, she couldn't possibly be more awake.

She crept out of the room and out into the corridor; down the stairs to a quiet and all but empty common room. Two people were there, though the only one she found herself paying any attention to was Jack. He was sitting on the sofa in the center of the room with a book spread across his lap. There was a radio on beside him and he didn't even notice her approaching until she was standing beside him. Even then, he only barely glanced up at her before returning to his book.

"Any news?"

He shook his head, flipping a page in what she now recognized as the Gryffindor Quidditch playbook. "No."

She collapsed beside him onto the sofa. Most times, she would have relished their closeness, but at the moment she felt nothing but knots tying themselves in her stomach. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

"You were only out for a bit," Jack mumbled, sounding absolutely knackered. "And you didn't miss anything."

"You stayed up, then?"

He was rubbing his eyes. "I caught an hour or so, but it wasn't much."

They sat in silence for an incredibly long time and Dominique tried to relieve the pressure in her chest that she hadn't been able to shake since the night before. Sometimes it was worse than other times—tighter, painful even—but mostly it was just uncomfortable. As if someone was sitting on top of her rib cage and refusing to get up.

Eventually Jack tossed the playbook down and leaned his entire head back onto the sofa. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. She was convinced he'd fallen asleep until his eyes fluttered back open at the sound of someone else joining them. She'd been so preoccupied she hadn't noticed anyone approaching, but when the person immediately curled up into a ball beside her and put their head on her shoulder, she knew there was only one person who could get away with that sort of gesture.

"I fell asleep," Sarah said, barely above a whisper. Her voice sounded hoarse and almost gone.

"We all did. But there's no new news."

"I know. Someone would have said something if there was. You two wouldn't have been sitting here if there was news." She sniffled, but it sounded more as if she had a cold rather than she was crying. "I just want to know that he's ok."

"He's alive," Dominique said matter-of-factly. "He may be hurt or lost or...I don't know, but as of right now—I can't tell you how I know it—but I do."

"How do you know?" Sarah practically squeaked. "How can you be so sure?"

She shrugged. "Call it a connection. Call it a twin thing. I don't fucking know, I just know he is."

More silence between the three of them. Jack must have dozed off at some point as she and Sarah stared into the fireplace. The common room was filling up with light from the day as the time crept closer to later in the morning. People were waking now and emerging from their dorms. It was a Saturday, which meant more people were likely to have a lie in than during the week, but they would all be down soon.

Dominique could feel eyes on her and whispers as they passed on their way to breakfast. Only a handful bothered to stop and say anything—usually asking for updates. Natalie and Eleanor had somberly walked over and stood for a bit; Flynn had emerged, still in yesterday's clothes and looking rather panicked at the fact that there was no news.

Rosie, Albus, and Freddie had all broken from their friends to come offer words of support—and perhaps be encouraged themselves. Dominique couldn't help but notice how shaken and small they seemed. She'd almost neglected to account for her little cousins' feelings. Louis and she had always seemed so much older—because they were; it was almost as if they'd grown up a world away from them. But they hadn't. They'd all been together. Louis was their big, older cousin—the oldest boy—who always volunteered to chase them around the garden longer than she or Victoire ever would—or to help them with their homework, or turn them on to some new band. This couldn't have been easy for them either.

James had appeared looking like a wreck. He probably hadn't slept much, and if he had, it had been poor sleep. He was still in his pajamas when he approached their sofa to ask a question that turned out to have nothing to do with Louis at all.

"Is the match still on?"

Jack had stirred at this point and was rubbing his face so hard it was almost as if he was trying to wipe his features off. Dominique hadn't even thought much about Quidditch, but the idea of getting on a broom right now was something she had no desire to do. She didn't want to do anything.

"I haven't heard otherwise," Jack said groggily. "Fuck. I don't even know how I'm…" He didn't finish. Instead he began lightly smacking the side of his face.

"Shouldn't it be canceled?" asked James.

"That's unfortunately not our decision," said Jack. "Only McGonagall can cancel matches."

"And she's not here," Dominique mumbled, noticing that James' gaze suddenly went to the portrait hole. He was watching something, or someone, though Dominique didn't care or have the energy to turn and see who. She would have her answer soon enough, as she now heard her name carry across the common room.

"Miss Weasley," said Longbottom, who'd made his way over to the sofa where she was sitting. Everyone sat up at the sound of his voice, watching as he walked around and immediately sat on the coffee table in front of them. He, too, looked as if he hadn't slept much; heavy bags under his eyes and unbrushed hair greeted them. He took all three of them in, acknowledging that he'd found the people he was looking for.

Dominique sat forward but remained emotionless. She didn't care to pretend otherwise, though she could probably muster something if he'd come with any new information. "Is there any news?"

His expression wasn't reassuring. "I've been in contact with Professor McGonagall. At day break, they've sent a search party out."

"Day break!?" Sarah practically yelled, her voice sounding even worse with volume. "Why did they wait until day break?!"

"Apparently, it was too hazardous to do it at night."

"Are you joking?" Dominique said, her blood starting to boil. "You mean to tell me it's not too hazardous to send Louis up the bloody thing in the dark to begin with, but it is too much to send in a search party?" She laughed a humorless laugh. "That's a fucking joke."

Longbottom didn't even flinch at the foul language; she was happy he didn't. She wasn't going to apologize. "Professor McGonagall felt similarly. The irony is not lost on anyone. But she had no say. She even went in on her own with a small search group of volunteers, including the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, who is also still missing a student, but it turned up nothing. The mountain is vast and it will require many people to search the whole of it."

"The Beauxbatons girl never turned up either?"

Longbottom shook his head.

For some odd reason, Dominique found comfort in this and she didn't know why. Perhaps they were together and helping each other. Perhaps she'd gotten hurt and Louis had found her. He was a good person and he wouldn't have left someone behind. Maybe he'd been hurt and she'd found him and he wasn't alone. It didn't explain why neither had sent distress signals out. That was the part that still unnerved her the most—why had there been no distress signal?

"Your parents are there," Longbottom continued. "I've spoken to your father and he's asked me to tell you to stay put here at school."

She glared at him.

"He assumes you may want to attempt to get there and help search, but things as of now are under control—"

"Likely story."

"—and he doesn't want to have to worry about the two of you. They are as overwhelmed and as confused as you are, Dominique. Give it a little more time before anyone truly panics. Let the people who know that mountain and understand it get up there and have a look. The officials say that capable wizards have survived for days on that mountain in the past. Your brother is nothing if not capable."

Dominique slumped back onto the sofa. "My brother is seventeen. He's barely grown. You're comparing him to wizards who are decades older than him and probably went up there with the intention of spending time up there. They had supplies and were prepared."

"You brother is one of the most clever students I've ever had. He's resourceful. I have complete faith in him."

"Bold statement, Professor," Jack said.

"It is," Longbottom said. "And I believe it. I've put my faith into a lot of things in my life and hoped for the best. It's all we can do."

"But I can help them search," Dominique said. "People don't realize that I feel connected to Louis in a way I can't explain. If I could only get out there—"

"I don't doubt it," Longbottom said. "There are many theories and examples of the special kind of magic that exists between twins and multiples. I've read even Muggle multiples claim they can feel the magic. That being said, I'm going on the request of your father."

"I'm seventeen," she said. "He couldn't stop me if I wanted to."

"He couldn't," Longbottom said, glancing from Jack and then to Sarah. "And I technically can't stop any of you, though as students I do have to say it's highly inadvisable. Setting up a Portkey takes time—sometimes as long as a day."

"My uncle is the head of the Department of Transportation," she said immediately, referring to her Uncle Percy. "I'm sure I can work something out and get some strings pulled."

"And I'm also sure your uncle would heed the request of your father."

Dominique gritted her teeth. What were they thinking? How could they let her sit here? Didn't they know she was going absolutely mental? She needed to be there, helping.

"I'll keep you posted first thing of any news I receive," Longbottom continued as he stood up. "And I'm hoping this all clears itself up soon. In the meantime, please try and keep yourself sane. All of you."

"Professor," came James' voice. He was apparently still standing there. "Is the Quidditch match still happening today? Considering much of our team is in pretty bad shape."

Longbottom stared at James for a long moment, as if he'd just dropped a very large piece of information onto him and he wasn't sure how to process it. "I'd completely forgotten. You're supposed to play…"

"Ravenclaw."

"And that's a big one," Longbottom said, his voice faraway. He took a deep breath. "If it were up to me, I'd of course postpone it, but the Headmistress is the only one allowed to make those calls and this isn't something I'm about to bother her with. Professor Flitwick is acting Headmaster while she is away, so he would have the authority to do so."

"Professor Flitwick?" Jack said. "He's Head of Ravenclaw. He's not going to do that."

Longbottom chuckled a little. "Mr. Ians, I assure you our Quidditch loyalties don't run deeper than the welfare of our students." He paused as if to think about that for a moment. "At least I don't think so. It never has for me."

Dominique pulled a slight face, suddenly remembering the time that he suspended her from the Quidditch Cup match during her fifth year and effectively cost Gryffindor the cup. Longbottom's Quidditch loyalties didn't run deep at all.

"What time is the match?" Longbottom asked.

"In about three hours," James said, checking the clock above the fireplace.

"Tell you what, I'll go find Professor Flitwick right now and we'll have a discussion." He looked at both Jack and Dominique. "Mr. Ians, as captain I'd ask you to attend. Miss Weasley, I'd like you to come as well. I'll collect you both from breakfast when it's time." He gave them both a long once over. "I feel it's important he sees both of you."

An hour later, Dominique and Jack sat on a bench outside of Flitwick's office; both with cups of coffee in hand. Jack had already had three while Dominique was on her second. When she'd gone to the Great Hall, which she hadn't wanted to do, everyone at breakfast had been encouraging her to eat something to get some strength, but she hadn't been the least bit hungry. She hadn't even wanted to drink the coffee, but she was afraid that she was going to have to be on a broom in the next hour and would need the caffeine. She was now forcing it down.

The door to Flitwick's office opened and Longbottom appeared to beckon both she and Jack inside. They stood, she in a complete daze and almost unable to even remember how she got there in the first place. She couldn't even remember dressing that morning, but given that she was dressed, she must have done it at some point. She'd never dreamt until last night, but this weird, hazy feeling must have been what it felt like to live inside of one. Maybe she was dreaming again? The line between reality and make believe certainly felt skewed.

"Miss Weasley. Mr. Ians," Flitwick said, his face immediately looking sympathetic as he sat behind his desk. "I can only imagine the night you've had. I barely slept myself. Dreadful course of events. Professor McGonagall is irate with how things have been handled thus far. He gestured to the seats in front of his desk. "Come and sit."

They did as they were told. Longbottom went to stand near Flitwick's desk, choosing to lean on a nearby bookshelf. She found that strange considering that there was another vacant chair directly beside her.

"Professor Longbottom has reminded me that there is a very important Quidditch match today, which of course seems rather trivial all things considered."

"Which is why it should be postponed," Longbottom said. "As you can see Fillius, two of my most senior players are in a right state and running on no sleep. I've got one missing a brother and one missing a friend—" He stopped to look at Jack. "Your best friend, I believe."

Jack nodded.

"I've also got James Potter, and he's not doing well either. Not to mention, the rest of the team is obviously worried and concerned about a fellow student—"

Flitwick was nodding. "Yes, of course. The entire school is very concerned and anxious."

"Naturally," Longbottom continued. "But obviously no one more so than his actual family and closest friends—which makes up nearly half of my team. If we're being honest, Filiius, given the sheer atmosphere of the school right now, who'd even want to watch a Quidditch match?"

"Some would argue that it would be a good distraction," Flitwick said, "And I do agree with you, Neville, but you know as well as I do that it isn't as simple as canceling a match. Especially given the nature of the season this year."

There was a knock at the door, which made both Jack and Dominique turn. Longbottom went to answer it, though Flitwick waved him off and simply yelled, "You may enter."

The door opened slowly. Standing there, dressed in his Quidditch uniform, was Griffin Giggleswick. He looked slightly confused as to why he was there, but nowhere near as confused as Dominique now was.

"Mr. Giggleswick," Flitwick said while beckoning him to enter. "Come and have a seat."

Giggleswick also did as he was told and took the seat beside Dominique. He glanced over at her and stared for a moment before turning his attention back to Flitwick.

"I'm glad you could join us," Flitwick continued. "I felt as captain of Ravenclaw, you should be it's representative in this discussion. As I'm sure you're aware, Louis Weasley is still missing."

"Yes, sir," Giggleswick said. "I take it there's been no news?"

Flitwick shook his head. "Nothing new, unfortunately. But that aside, we're faced with the task of there being a Quidditch match today. Quite the rivalry, I know. I've also been informed that several scouts from various professional outlets will be attending. They requested permission to attend a week ago."

All three of them stared at him without a word. It was Longbottom who, rather bluntly, said, "Scouts can easily go home if the match was cancelled. It would hardly be an inconvenience seeing as we are the only local school for which they can observe talent." He shrugged. "They'd now have their Saturday free."

"The match is being canceled?" Giggleswick asked, sitting up in his chair. "But, sir—"

"Griffin," Longbottom continued, "as I'm sure you know, Louis Weasley is Dominique's brother. He and Jack are very close friends. Obviously, his disappearance has affected them more than the average student."

"Yes, sir," Giggleswick said, nodding absently. "But I was under the impression that matches could only be canceled by the Headmistress. She's not here, so—"

"I am acting Headmaster. I may act in her absence," Flitwick said.

"Oh," Giggleswick said, sounding oddly alarmed. "But, I'm sorry, I don't understand. Does that mean Gryffindor is forfeiting?"

"No," Jack said, now sounding the most awake he'd sounded all morning. "No. We're not doing that."

"We'd want to postpone," Dominique added. "Not forfeit."

"Until when, exactly?" Giggleswick asked, a trace of his usual obnoxiousness now seeping through.

That was a good question. Dominique wasn't even entirely sure when that was allowed. The dates for these matches were chosen before the school term even started, and while it seemed every weekend would be viable, given the schedules of other students in other clubs and organizations, as well as events such as Hogsmeade trips, it wasn't simply as easy as just moving it to the next available day. Not to mention, there were only two weekends left before the holiday break and end of term.

"And, while I hate to be morbid," Giggleswick continued, "but I'm just going to say it. What if something ends up happening to Louis and he…you know." He made a point to avoid Dominique when he said that. "It wouldn't matter much if we played next week or the following week. They're not just going to get over something like that and be ready to play."

Dominique felt her face form into the nastiest look she could muster. "No, I don't know," she spat. "What are you trying to say?"

Giggleswick said nothing, though Longbottom curtly added, "We're not going to think about that, Mr. Giggleswick." We're talking about the here and now, and what we can do today."

"Unfortunately," Flitwick said with a sigh as he now seemed to be glossing over a diary in front of him, "given the condensed season due to the tournament, and with the holidays break fast approaching, a makeup date would not be possible. Rules state the match must be accounted for, or else the end of term rankings for both the Quidditch and House Cups would be at an unfair advantage to the houses who have played their full schedule. With that said, our only other option would be when the two teams meet in the second term, the results of that match would count for double."

All three of them blurted out some variation of "What?" or "No!" Were they joking? At least if they lose today's match, they had a chance to make up for it when they faced Ravenclaw again next term. If they lost next term with this rule, that would be an automatic two losses. It could also be an automatic two wins, but they couldn't count on that. Not with Ravenclaw. This wasn't Hufflepuff where that would have been an open and shut solution. Two losses could completely destroy their entire season and everything they'd been building toward.

"Sir," Giggleswick said, "I understand they are going through some things right now and I sympathize. I do. But I also know they're both exceptionally skilled Quidditch players who are capable of playing through that."

"Are you serious…?" Jack mumbled under his breath, glaring at Giggleswick now himself.

"And," Giggleswick continued, ignoring him, "it's not as if we're all not trying to make it to the professional level next year. Terrible things happen to people all of the time. Matches don't stop."

Unlike Jack who now let his gaze of frustration drop to the ground, Dominique lifted hers to the ceiling—her eyes practically rolling out of her head. This fucker. This fucking fucker. She'd hated him a thousand times before but never more than right now. He'd never manage to top this. Manipulative little shit.

"Which is why, as captain of Ravenclaw, I have to look out for my team," he said, attempting to sound diplomatic and thoughtful. "There's too much pressure to have a match worth double. Particularly against a team like Gryffindor."

Jack's head shot up. "He also knows if he plays today he's at an advantage! Of course he wants the match to happen!"

"If they'd like to forfeit, I'd accept that."

"I'm not forfeiting," Jack said, growing more and more fired up by the minute. Dominique could tell by the look in his eyes that he was holding back a particularly meaningful 'fuck you.'

Giggleswick shrugged. "That's your choice, then."

Longbottom and Flitwick were staring at them, both seemingly unsure of where to take this. Longbottom, to his credit, at least seemed to smell the bullshit coming out of Giggleswick's mouth given the look on his face. Flitwick, however, didn't seem to be picking up on it quite so readily. He instead was now drumming his fingers on his desk in a fidgety sort of way.

"There's no way they could simply mutually agree to cancel this match only?" Longbottom asked Flitwick.

"But I don't want to cancel," Giggleswick said. "Professor Flitwick said it himself, if both of us cancel this match, and there's no record or points; that puts Slytherin and Hufflepuff at an unfair advantage since they'll have played their entire schedules and received points for that extra match. You know how close the end of the year points race can be."

"You're seriously worried about bloody points?" Dominique said, her jaw clenched.

"I'm looking out for my team," Giggleswick told her. "And if it were anyone else in this position, you'd be doing the same."

"I would not!"

He sat back in his chair. "If you honestly don't care about points, then tell your captain over there to forfeit and give Ravenclaw the 150 consolation points we'd awarded for your lot pulling out."

She glared at him so sharply she was certain she could cut him. She could only hope that she somehow could make a head-exploding spell work if she thought about it really, really hard.

Flitwick cleared his throat. "The rules state that the match must be accounted for. Now, I have no issue canceling things, but there will be no postponement. There simply isn't time due to the tournament. The decision for your following meeting to count as double remains." He looked directly at Jack. "Mr. Giggleswick has expressed no interest in doing that and you do not seem particularly keen either. That leaves you with two options: to forfeit or play."

Dominique's eyes shot directly to Jack, who was now sitting bent forward in his chair. His elbows were being supported by his thighs and his hands were folded directly in front of his mouth. He was staring at Flitwick as if lost in thought, though he gradually lowered his arms to his lap and looked over at her. He clearly wanted her input, but if he knew her at all, he already knew what she was going to say. She stared back at him and shrugged, attempting to convey that it was ultimately his choice and she supported that. But in this instance, she knew they were already on the same page.

"We'll play," Jack muttered, exhaling in a very defeated sort of way.

Longbottom also sighed as he let his head thump dully back against the bookshelf. Flitwick asked Jack once again if he was sure, to which he said he was. Both he and Dominique stood to excuse themselves, considering they both had to get back up to Gryffindor Tower and get dressed in their uniforms and prepare to make their way down to the pitch. This day was already the longest day of her life and it wasn't even nine o'clock.

Giggleswick had risen to leave as well, which Dominique thought was rather bold. He was clearly very brave to be willing to follow her and Jack out into an unsupervised corridor at the moment. The second the door to Flitwick's office snapped shut behind them, Dominique didn't even attempt to hold back.

"You fucking worthless piece of shit," she said in a loud whisper. "This is low even for you."

Giggleswick rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest. Do you really think I'm going to actually cancel and do either of you any favors?"

"This isn't a bloody favor," Jack said, his tone as sharp as hers. "It's being a decent fucking human being."

"Oh, fuck you," Giggleswick said. "You heard Flitwick. There was no postponement. And you both know the double match rule would have fucked us both. Why take the chance? You forfeiting or you playing is nothing but a good thing for my team today. I made the right choice for us."

"This goes beyond fucking Quidditch," Dominique yelled. "My brother is—" She felt her voice crack. The pressure, the emotion, the adrenaline—she was about to explode. But not in front of Giggleswick. She had to at least hold out on that.

Giggleswick begrudged a sigh, as if he suddenly had a conscience that was deciding to now function properly. "Look, I'm actually sorry for the shit happening with your brother. I bet that does suck for you." He then shrugged in the most cavalier manner possible. "But if it's fucking you up so much that you can't handle things, you really should sit this one out. Don't you have a fourth-year...?"

Dominique jumped at him, already pulling out her wand instinctively. She was going to curse him into the next century. Then she was going to bring him back in order to beat the shit out of him, before cursing him again. She was going to keep doing it until she tired of it or he disintegrated into a literal bloody pulp. Whichever came first. Unfortunately, before she could do that, Jack had managed to grab and restrain her.

"I swear to God," Jack said to him, still holding her back despite her attempts to wiggle free, "I'm going to take your head off today. Every fucking Bludger is coming directly at you. They won't recognize you when I'm done."

Giggleswick smirked, "Any other day, I might have been worried. Today, I don't even think you can see straight." He looked from one to the other. "You both look like shit, Maybe you should try a nap before the match."

Dominique stopped fighting against Jack's hold on her and was now shaking with anger. She was so angry she felt like she wanted to vomit. Everything from her teeth to her knees was quaking. Her stomach was churning and her head was throbbing. She couldn't even talk, she was so incensed. There were no words in the English language that could sum up how much she loathed him.

Giggleswick turned to leave, but not before he called over his shoulder, "Still time to forfeit if you change your mind."

Jack began laughing, but it was empty, hollow, and completely humorless—as if he'd cracked a bit. He finally let Dominique go once Giggleswick was out of sight, though she still found herself rooted to the spot she'd been standing in. Her anger was simply fermenting—not waning or dissipating, but rather pooling inside of her with no means of escape or resolution. Her jaw was still actually shaking.

"I'm going to end him out there," Jack said.

"I could have ended him right here!" she snapped. "If you'd stop holding me back!"

"Don't get me wrong, I think Longbottom and the rest of them are willing to give you more of a pass than usual today, but I don't think murder is one of the things they'd let slide."

She closed her eyes and took a huge breath in an effort to calm herself. "I was willing to take that risk."

"Hey."

She opened her eyes.

"You don't have to play today."

Her brow furrowed. "Sorry?"

"It's…" He seemed to be picking his words carefully. "I see how hard you're holding yourself together and you know that's not the end of Giggleswick's shit talking today. You're open right now and he's going to take advantage of it. I don't want you to feel like you have to do this to prove anything. Don't subject yourself to his shit when you're not in a place to be taking it right now."

She continued to stare at him, wondering if she was actually hearing him correctly. Was he not also in the same place right now? Did she miss something? "No, I'm playing. What would you even do? Put James in?"

"I'd figure it out."

"Because he's not exactly at the top of his game, either." She shook her head and went to march past him on her way to the stairs. "I know you think you're being nice, but I call it stupid. We might as well have just forfeited if you want to mess with everything we've worked on just two hours before the match."

"Teams make prematch adjustments all the time."

She turned, looking him directly in the eyes. "I can handle this."

The pair of them returned to the Gryffndor common room, only to find most of the people they were looking for milling about. Alice was sitting at a table near the window, dressed and ready in her uniform, and stood the moments they'd come in. James was sitting with Eatins and some others, neither dressed for the match, but both equally looking at Jack to deliver the news. Tommy and Kenley were sitting in the center of the room on the best sofa, next to Sarah and Flynn and a handful of others. Every eye in that group of people was now on the two of them.

"Get dressed, we've got a match," Jack said, not addressing anyone specifically. He didn't stop to chat and had continued right on past the lot of them toward the boys' dormitory.

"Seriously?" Sarah asked, watching Jack as he walked away. She rounded back on Dominique. "Seriously!?"

"They wouldn't postpone," she said, unable to fight a yawn. "Season is too short as it is. Only option was to make the next match against Ravenclaw count double."

"Fuck that," Tommy muttered, though it was Eatins who said, "Would that be so bad?"

"Yes," she and Tommy said in unison, before she added, "We wanted a cancellation, but that piece of shit Giggleswick refused it. You should have heard the shit coming out of his mouth." She gritted her teeth. "Anyway, that only left us with forfeiting or playing."

"So, forfeit," Sarah said obviously. "Is this really the time for fucking Quidditch?"

"Flitwick seems to think it could be a good distraction."

"To hell with him and to hell with what he thinks!" Sarah snapped, standing up and looking utterly beside herself. "There are more important things in life than bloody Quidditch! Fuck."

WIth that, she stormed away; up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. She was inconsolable right now and it was understandable. A part of Dominique wanted to storm up the stairs with her and hide for the rest of the day; she knew that wasn't going to happen now. She was too invested in making Giggleswick pay for his bullshit. Flitwick was at last partially right—this was proving to be a distraction.

Dominique looked back at the others. "Giggleswick pushed things to a point where forfeiting wasn't…" She stopped. "I mean, Jack wouldn't...You'd have understood if you were there."

Both Tommy and Eatins were nodding while Kenley now seemed lost in thought. Alice seemed confused in general as to what she was supposed to be doing, but it was James who spoke for everyone when he turned toward the stairs of the boys' dormitory. "Better go get ready, then."


	12. Disposable

Dominique found that Sarah had drawn all the curtains around her bed once she entered their room to change. She knew she should probably say something to her, but she had nothing to say. Sarah was hurting, but she was as well. She shouldn't have to be the one constantly consoling her when her fears and concerns were just as valid. Clearly she and Sarah were choosing to deal with this in different ways, but it didn't mean she was wrong. Sarah had no right to judge her or Jack for choosing to go through with this match. She was welcome to sit and cry, but the events of this morning had given Dominique an adrenaline boost; she couldn't sit around and wait for news any longer.

She walked over to her trunk and pulled out her scarlet and gold uniform. She dressed quickly and quietly; she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and tied her trainers tightly. She took one last glance at Sarah's bed before walking straight toward the door and exiting.

No one from her team was in the common room. They were either all still getting dressed or had gotten out before she'd come down, which she was thankful for. A few minutes of peace as she walked down to the pitch was exactly what she needed at the moment.

She left the common room and descended the stairs as her thoughts drifted to Louis. The unshakable tightness in her chest seemingly intensified every time he crossed her mind. She took solace in the fact the unshakable feeling she had that he was still alive somewhere was still very much present. She only wished she was there to help find out exactly where he was.

She eventually reached the bottom and found herself right outside the Great Hall. Breakfast was nearing its final minutes, and while she could easily go and get a last minute meal, her appetite had yet to return. Her stomach felt uneasy and rather queasy and she was still afraid she might be sick at some point, but she had to just push the feeling away. Deep breaths.

As she headed toward the main entrance to leave for the pitch, she heard a voice call her name. Erin Tanner was standing there after separating from her group of Slytherin friends. She was looking at her with the same sort of sympathetic eyes she'd been getting all morning, which made her feel caged.

"I can't believe you're playing," Erin said.

"Don't have much of a choice."

"I'm not judging you," she said quickly. "The opposite actually. I can't believe you're playing because...I don't think I could. I don't know how you are."

"Again. I don't have much of a choice. They wouldn't postpone the match. Giggles wouldn't agree to cancel. Play or forfeit. Even if I wanted to sit, our backup Seeker is my cousin and he's not doing well either."

"And you can't forfeit against Ravenclaw," Erin said, as if it was a rule she was reciting from some text. "I get that it's just a game and it doesn't matter, but…" She sighed. "I get it. I honestly do."

Dominique knew she did and forced a weak sort of smile. It was about all she could muster.

"I'm so sorry about Louis."

"He'll turn up," she said, sounding more confident than she'd intended. She wasn't even sure where that had come from.

Erin was nodding. "Of course. Last night was a nightmare. When Zara turned up, I started crying. The relief of knowing she was alright took over." She looked away. "But then, she gave that interview and you could hear it in her voice that she'd gotten fucked up. She didn't even sound like herself. She sounded lost.

"I hardly know your brother. I mean, I know him as everyone knows him. He's Louis Weasley, he's…" She stopped as if she caught herself getting off track. "Anyway, I barely know him and I found myself sick to my stomach wondering where he was."

Dominique nodded, not really knowing what else to say. It wasn't that Erin's words didn't feel genuine—they did, for once—it was that she simply couldn't offer other people the words of hope and comfort they were looking for. She wasn't the kind of person who could find the right thing to say, especially when she was also dealing with things as well. "Well, thanks, but I need to…" She pointed toward the door.

"Giggleswick seems pretty smug about having this match in the bag," she said, her tone sounding more normal. "Not that I'm putting my support behind Gryffindor, mind you, but if one of you could just fuck up that stupid grin he's always walking around with, that'd be terrific."

"Jack's already on it," she said, turning to put her hand on the door handle. "He's the one with the bat."

With a few more polite nods, Dominique finally managed to excuse herself out into the courtyard and down toward the path that would take her to the Quidditch arena. It was bitterly cold out and the sky was grey and miserable. That seemed appropriate, all things considered.

People were scattered throughout the courtyard, all bundled up and looking as if they were readying themselves for the upcoming match. They stared at her as she passed, though she chose not to acknowledge anyone. She simply shoved her hands in the pockets of her trousers and kept walking until she reached the path that led away from the school.

People were stationed down the path as well, though no one she recognized at first glance. The closer she got, the more she realized they were grown adults—not students. This wasn't an entirely unfamiliar sight, considering that all alumni and family members were encouraged to attend Quidditch matches if they liked; they were simply instructed to stick to the area directly around the arena and not venture onto the rest of school grounds. If they did, they wouldn't be permitted to attend the match.

Usually, it would be a handful of people, though for big matches like this the crowds could grow larger. This though—there had to have been twenty people down there already and this was still an hour before the match started. They wouldn't even open the doors for another half hour.

She hurried her pace in order to quickly pass the first group of people. They were the ones standing nearest to the invisible line that separated the proper school grounds from Quidditch arena. She had hoped to pass on and not even attempt to make eye contact with anyone—at least not until someone said, "Hold on, is that her?"

People turned on the spot to look at her. A small group of men and women rushed up and left her with nowhere to go. They were blocking the path and invading her personal space. One of them smelled heavily of perfume and another of tobacco smoke. She took several steps back out of instinct as she attempted to gauge what exactly was happening. They continued to follow her as one of the men pulled out a camera; the others were pulling out quills and notebooks.

"You're Dominique Weasley," said the woman, who was leading the charge and inching closer and closer to her with every step she took backwards. "Just who we were looking for! Didn't think you'd be so easy to get a hold of."

Dominique stared at her, her eyes wide and a little frightened. "Do I know you?"

"I'm Perpetua Greenfeld with the Daily Prophet. I'd love a quick word about your thoughts on your brother."

"Alvin Simms with Wizarding Weekly," shouted one of the other men. "Have you heard anything from your parents or Hogwarts' officials about your brother?"

"How did you feel last night after learning your brother hadn't returned within the specified window?"

"Why are you here preparing for a Quidditch match instead of helping search for your brother?"

"Do you think your brother is still alive?"

"I'm sorry?" she snapped, feeling as if someone had just kicked her in the stomach. "What kind of question...? What is wrong with you?"

The camera suddenly went off, briefly blinding Dominique for a moment and causing her to suddenly see a collection of starbursts in front of her eyes. She blinked them away and shook her head before immediately stepping off the path and into the grass to bypass the entire lot of them. She rushed forward toward the arena, passing the rest of the crowd which she now feared was more of the same.

"Dominique!"

"No comment!" she yelled, now jogging past small pockets of people. _Do you think your brother is still alive?_ They could fuck right off. How were they even allowed to be here? Reporters weren't just allowed to be on the grounds without permission; they certainly weren't supposed to talk to students.

...Unless they were using the Quidditch match to be there. Even the most basic research would have tuned up that she probably would have been playing today. It was that easy for them to arrive outside, stand with the spectators, wait for her to show up, and then barrage her with questions. She couldn't even get back to the castle to tell Flitwick or Longbottom without having to walk right past them again.

She was nearly toward the entrance of the arena when suddenly someone called her name and grabbed her by the elbow. She immediately turned and shoved the person with all of her might, watching as they briefly lost their balance and stumbled back several steps. She was already reaching for her wand when she realized who had touched her.

"It's me, it's me!" said Davies, throwing up his hands and smiling a little. She furrowed her brow as she looked him up and down. He was bundled up for the weather in a heavy cloak, but he also had on his old Ravenclaw scarf. Of course he would.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to see you."

"Dominique," came the voice of one of the reporters, "Please, just one word."

"I'll give you two, but they aren't fit to print!" she snapped, turning away from them and immediately heading toward the entrance again.

"Hey, wait, hold on," came Davies' voice. Was he serious right now? Did he not see what was happening? Why was he even here? Why were any of these people here to see her? She felt as if she was about to scream if she didn't escape this mess of people within the next thirty seconds. "I wanted to see you."

Dominique groaned, not even attempting to hide her agitation with him; with everyone. She wanted to disappear. She couldn't even Apparate away given that she was on school grounds. She was suddenly regretting not running back toward school where none of these people could go.

She reached the gate to the arena and immediately grabbed her wand to gain entrance. As she was fumbling with pulling the handles and unlocking the lock, another brand new voice suddenly asked, "Are you Dominique Weasley?"

"Piss off and leave me alone!" she screamed, turning to see two men and a woman all standing there. They were all staring at her but she could not be bothered to engage them for one second longer. She'd managed to get the gate open and was about to disappear inside when Davies suddenly put his hand out to stop her from shutting it.

"Let me in."

"You're not allowed," she said, knowing full well that he knew the rules. "Before matches, only athletes and officials. You're neither of those things anymore."

"It'll just be for a couple of minutes," he said, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he pushed it out of the way. "I promise, just a few then I'll go. Come on, you know no one will really care."

"I really care," she snapped, though she found herself allowing him to enter despite knowing better. It was amazing how seeing his face irritated her right now. She had to wonder how much of that was because she was already in an awful mood and how much of it was because she didn't want to see him.

Davies stepped through the gates and seemed to be under the impression that they were going to stand directly in front of this random crowd of people and have a chat. She took one long look at the people that were still very much watching them through the gaps in the gate—the photographer even took a picture—and scoffed. She started walking into the tunnel and out of sight.

"What is that?" he asked, almost laughing as he said it. He seemed amused by it all, which annoyed her further.

"Were you not listening?" she asked, stopping once they were free from the onlookers.

"Why's the Prophet so keen on talking to you?"

Was he being serious? Did he live under a rock? Come to think of it, he hadn't said a thing about Louis yet—which she would have been thrilled about had he been a random person, but as her supposed boyfriend of sorts, that was actually really fucked up. He was standing there with a dumb grin on his face as if he didn't realize how awful everything was around her.

"Louis is missing."

The amusement in his face disappeared at that, as if he suddenly remembered how a person should act when presented with that sort of news. "Yeah, I know. I heard."

She continued to stare at him. That was it? That was all he had? She'd gotten more sympathy that morning from a group of first-years she'd never spoken to a day in her life.

"That sucks," he added.

"That sucks? _That sucks?_ Are you fucking broken?" She shook her head in a matter of disbelief. "Wait, don't answer that. I already know."

"I…" He took a deep breath. "I never know what to say when something like this happens."

"When something like _what_ happens?!" she yelled, still wondering what the hell he was on about. "You know a lot of people whose brothers go missing? For fuck's sake, Davies."

"Ok, ok, you're right. I'm fucking this all up." He looked her in the eyes. "Are you alright?"

"No!" she spat. "Of course I'm not alright! You're really shit at this."

He made a face as if to say that was the truth. "I've never been very in tune to feelings and emotions and—"

"Basic human decency?"

That made his expression sour. "That's not fair."

"Well, what is fair?" she asked. "Because if you want to talk about what's not fair in life right now, I think I'm going to win."

They stared at each other for a very long moment. She had to assume he was regretting even showing up, which would have been the appropriate reaction since she regretted ever letting him follow her inside. If he hadn't come here to see if she was okay, then why was he even here?

"Why are you here?" she asked him. "Clearly it wasn't to see how I was holding up."

"Of course it was," he said. "It's like I said, I'm just not good with words, but obviously I'm here because of what's happened. Otherwise I could have waited until tomorrow."

Ug, tomorrow. They were supposed to go to Hogsmeade. She didn't want to do that. She really didn't want to do that. Beside the fact that she did not want to spend the day with him, the idea of going out while her brother was missing was obviously not something she was going to do. This was especially true since those reporters would have free reign over Hogsmeade.

"I'm not going tomorrow."

"But we had plans."

"Plans change!" she yelled. "You expect me to enjoy some stupid butterbeers while my brother is lost on a bloody mountain and reporters are harassing me? Are you daft?"

"Well, I assumed that if you were in the right sort of headspace to play Quidditch, you could manage Hogsmeade."

"I'm only playing Quidditch because that stupid fucking mate of yours made it so that we had no choice. I've got a lot invested in this season and I've got to try and maintain that. I have no commitment to Hogsmeade...or you, for that matter."

His face grew curious. He seemed to be inspecting her for something. "What's that mean?"

"It means, I'm done with this," she gestured between the two of them, "whatever the fuck it is. I'm done attempting to explain this. I'm done having to remember you exist. I'm done."

"No," he shook his head, "No, you're not. You're just fucked up right now. Once this thing with your brother blows over…"

"No!" she said. "I'm done! Even before yesterday, I was done. Your letters are weird and clingy—which, by the way, why are you writing me letter after letter? Since when do you do that?"

"I thought that's what you wanted!" he yelled. "You'd mentioned you'd wanted more of a real relationship."

"When did I do that?!"

He hesitated while he seemed to think that over. "It was a while ago—"

"Before you chucked me the first time?" she asked. "When I dared ask you to take things a bit more seriously and you freaked out? Merlin's arse, Davies. That ship sailed a long time ago. I only agreed on whatever this was because it was easier to do than fight about it. But if I'm being honest, I don't care about that anymore. There's other sex out there that doesn't come with all of this rubbish."

"Right." He was nodding in a patronizing manner. "Right, you're the belle of the bloody ball right now, aren't you? Bet you've got people queuing up around the castle to try and fuck you, huh?"

She rolled her eyes.

"And now you're through with me," he said, nodding at her in a weirdly aggressive sort of way. "I cared about you when no one else did—"

"Did you actually use the word 'cared'?" She laughed. "Do you need a dictionary?"

"—when no one else was even giving you the time of day, but now I'm disposable."

She looked directly at him. "That's not true. You were always disposable."

He laughed. "This is hilarious. Truly." He turned back to start walking toward the gate, where sudden noises of people opening and shutting it could be heard carrying down the tunnel. He stopped and rounded on her one last time. "You're in a bad spot right now thanks to your brother. We can figure this out later."

"No need," she said. "I said everything I've needed to say."

"Later," he repeated as he walked away. "Once all of this had calmed down."

"We're done!" she called after him.

She took an incredibly heavy breath as she recognized most of her teammates now rounding the corner and coming into view. Everyone glanced at Davies as he passed, though Tommy was looking at him as if he were a ghost who he'd never expected to see there. Jack actually stopped walking entirely to point-blank ask him, "What are you doing here?"

"Go Ravenclaw," he spat back, not even looking at him.

"Fuck you, too," Jack said, watching him walk away before he turned to search the tunnel ahead of them. His eyes met Dominique's the second they could and the first thing out of his mouth was, "What was—?"

"Don't ask."

James suddenly stepped up between her and the rest of the group. "Where'd you go? We were waiting for you. Why'd you come down on your own?"

She shrugged as she followed them on their way to the changing rooms. "I needed some time alone."

"That was alone time?" Jack asked, sounding annoyed as he quickened his pace to get in front of her and James. "He's not supposed to be back here. You know that."

She picked her own pace to keep up with him. "When I got down here there were reporters out there and they started harassing me and asking me questions about Louis."

"Yeah, they asked all of us for a comment," Eatins said, getting to the changing room door first. "Jack told them where to go and that they shouldn't be out here."

She glanced over at Jack, though he'd again moved forward and entered the changing room before her. He immediately set off toward his locker, but not before—and in his very official captain sounding tone—saying, "It doesn't change the fact that he's not supposed to be back here."

"I'm aware of the rules, Jack," she said, watching as everyone scattered around the room to their various lockers. She followed him over to his despite her locker being on the opposite end of the room. "But I didn't want the reporters seeing Davies and I talking and then putting it in the morning papers."

He threw her an annoyed look as he opened his locker. She was fairly certain it had much less to do with her being a rule breaker and far more to do with the company she had chosen to keep. She lowered her voice. "They would have loved to watch me break up with my boyfri—whatever he is—while my brother is missing. That would have made for a terrific story. I wasn't exactly nice to any of them."

Jack picked up his broom in a busy sort of way. "Wait, did you break up with him?"

She nodded. "I did. He may not think so, but—"

He sighed. "What does that even mean?"

"It means—" She found herself growing quiet again as Tommy appeared a few lockers down from Jack and looked casually over in their direction, as one would when two people were randomly huddled together in quiet conversation. "It means, I told him it was over, but he thinks I'm just fucked in the head because of Louis and will come back around."

He'd pulled his bat out of his locker and then slammed the door immediately afterward. Without the door barrier between them, they were standing face to face with only a few inches between them. "Well, you do tend to do that. I can see why he'd think it."

She pulled a face at him, feeling a bit stung by that despite it being the truth. "No. I'm done this time."

She didn't know exactly what reaction she had been expecting, but his blank, emotionless expression hadn't been it. He eventually looked away and around the room as everyone else finished getting their equipment situated before looking back at her. "You'll need to get your broom."

She blinked, still rather unsure where this attitude was coming from. She finally pulled herself away and over to her own locker, all while Jack called for everyone to listen up as he began going over the battle plan for their match. He emphasized how little any of them wanted to be there, how they'd slept like shit, how it was a joke that this match was even happening when so much else was happening—but they were here and they had to focus to the best of their abilities. Ravenclaw may think they have the advantage, but he refused to believe that. He'd heard plenty of Ravenclaws that morning claiming they'd been up all night waiting for news, and while Giggleswick may not have been one of them, there was no way the entire team hadn't been affected and lost sleep as well. They weren't going to be on top of their game either.

After warm-ups, they returned to the changing rooms to sit and ready themselves. Jack was reviewing specific scoring drills with the Chasers while Tommy and Kenley sat whispering about something. To their credit, neither seemed particularly knackered or hungover. Perhaps Jack's scolding had gotten through to them, which was actually rather nice to see. That or they both held their alcohol particularly well. It was almost ironic that the two of them had shown up looking ready to go whereas she and Jack were falling to pieces.

The match began shortly after, with the stands full of people but the energy lower than usual. People were cheering, but it was more subdued and lazy. Or perhaps that's just how Dominique interpreted it all. She'd taken off on her broom once the whistle had blown and everything felt slower. She felt slower, Giggleswick felt slower, everyone felt slower. She was having trouble focusing, though it seemed she wasn't the only one.

James actually dropped not one, but two Quaffles—something she'd never seen him do—and Jack missed an obvious Bludger that he normally would have crushed. It ended up nailing Eatins in the leg, ending a decent breakaway he'd had on the rings. Tommy was playing far more clean up for Jack than he usually would have, coming up behind to salvage some of his sloppier swings and clipping the Ravenclaw Chasers, but it really didn't matter. They'd gone up almost fifty points straight away.

Giggleswick was scouting the perimeter, and seemingly avoiding her. She'd half expected him to tail her and taunt her—take advantage of her state of mind—though in reality that had never been his style. He would taunt and goad before matches, after matches, during school in between matches, but he'd always been all business on the pitch. A part of her was thankful because she truly felt like a ticking bomb that would love any excuse to physically destroy him; the other part of her was angry because she wanted nothing more than to have the excuse to end him in front of an arena full of spectators.

But she was focusing her energy in the entirely wrong place right now. She needed to find the Snitch and end this match. That would hit him hardest. She watched as Alice caught a rebound and effortlessly flew the length of the pitch, somehow managing to convince Val Madden—Ravenclaw's stellar Keeper—she was throwing to the left when she veered quickly to the right. Points on the board. They could do this.

She blinked her eyes, feeling oddly fuzzy-headed and now acutely aware of how empty her stomach was. She wasn't even hungry, but there was a sour, emptiness that made her feel sick. She started taking deep breaths to stave off the discomfort. She needed to get through this. Her quiet bed, hiding behind curtains, shutting the world out was waiting on the other side of this match. She just needed to catch the bloody Snitch so she could escape it all.

Giggleswick was flying in figure-eights and circles now, attempting to shake her off his tail. She'd been stalking him from about half the length of the pitch, and he'd clearly noticed. She'd been hoping that once the Snitch appeared, she would get the lucky jump on him if she stayed close enough. There was no way she could outrun him right now, so she needed luck on her side.

The Chasers below seemed to be nothing more than fuzzy blurs of color. She was having a problem following the score and knowing what the point gap was between the two teams—which would tell her whether she should be catching the Snitch or attempting to buy more time so Giggleswick couldn't. Why wasn't anyone announcing the score? It seemed as if the Ravenclaw Chasers were getting score after score on Kenley, while Madden was repelling everything that came near her. Neither James nor Eatins were sinking much, though Alice continued to hit almost every shot she'd taken. She unfortunately wasn't as aggressive as her cohorts, so it didn't make up for the points they were losing.

The match reached the hour mark. At some point recently, the score had been that Ravenclaw was up by eighty. The Snitch had yet to appear, at least she hadn't seen it, though Giggleswick had pulled into some dives that indicated he might have. One had clearly been to throw her off, which had worked because she'd raced to follow him into a very tight dive, taking a tremendous amount of energy to do so, only for him to pull up and fly off at the last minute—obviously having planned the whole thing. He was trying to tire her out; he knew she was running on fumes.

The second time, whether he saw the Snitch or not, Dominique didn't know because he'd gotten entirely slowed down by a Bludger that had come within centimeters of his head, causing him to pull back aggressively to miss it. He'd yelped loudly and actually slipped off his broom in the confusion. Had he not been able to hang on with one arm, he would have fallen a good thirty feet to the ground. She was sad to see he was capable of maintaining his grip.

"Aw, hang in there," she taunted as she flew unusually close past him, watching as he tried to swing his leg back over his handle. She was attempting to shake him up even more as he attempted to get his bearings. He threw her a scathing look, which actually made her laugh as she pulled away. Her moment of amusement was short lived as she suddenly found her chest starting to tighten in that terribly uncomfortable way that it had the night before. Only this time, it was getting tighter and tighter by the second, as if someone had her in a vice.

Her lungs were struggling to expand. making it difficult to breath. Every breath she took was painful and forced her to grip her broom tighter. What was happening? She was trying so hard to not panic, stalk Giggleswick, and watch the score that it was all becoming too much. She was starting to feel dizzy; she couldn't keep her eyes open.

"Time out," she managed to squeak, but of course no one heard her.

Out of nowhere, she felt as if something had kicked her in the chest. It was the hardest punch she'd ever felt and she gripped her broom for fear of falling, gasping for air as she did. She did her best to steer her way to the ground, landing hard and collapsing onto all fours as soon as she'd connected. Whatever that punch was, it had caused the vice-like tightness to relent a bit as she doubled over and tried to breathe. She couldn't seem to catch her breath.

"Nicki, what's wrong?" came Tommy's voice, appearing to investigate.

"I don't know," she stammered, just as she heard Tommy yell out a loud, "Time out!" but it was drowned out by the sounds of the crowd suddenly yelling out in a mixture of cheering and groaning. She started looking around, hoping that it wasn't what she thought, but she discovered that it was exactly as she suspected. Across the pitch, Giggleswick was pulling out of a dive, and from where she was, it looked as if he now had the Snitch in his hand.

Tommy's head dropped in a defeated sort of way before he looked back at her. She saw Alice and Jack landing nearby, both rushing over to see what had happened. Jack was immediately eye level with her as she sat there, taking smaller and smaller breaths after finally regaining control of her lungs; the spasm from before had disappeared.

"What happened? Are you ok?"

"Couldn't breath," she said as James and Eatins has suddenly appeared. Her chest wasn't heaving any longer; the tightness from before was entirely gone.

"Do you need to see someone?" James asked. "Pomfrey?

She shook her head and forced herself to stand, watching everyone watching her carefully. She didn't need their eyes on her now. She needed to escape. "I'm fine. Just...disappointed."

Ravenclaw had started celebrating nearby while Gryffindor all looked on rather solemnly. No one was saying anything, and Dominique took the opportunity to pass the group of them and hobble off the pitch.

She was overcome with exhaustion and frustration and couldn't hang on for another moment. It was hitting her now. She'd used what little energy she had left and practically sprinted through the tunnel and into the changing room, where she threw the door open, tossed her broom to the side, and immediately went into the showers. She had no intention of taking one, but they were private and rarely used and she'd often found herself back there when she needed an escape. She leaned up against the nearest tile wall and slid down the length of it, collapsing into a ball where she suddenly—and quite surprisingly-—began sobbing. It was too much. She couldn't take any of it anymore.

Minutes passed until she heard the door to the changing rooms open, followed by people's voices. She immediately reached up to pull on the shower faucet, releasing the water and allowing it to now pour down and begin soaking her. Other than wanting it to mask the sounds of her crying, she also hoped everyone would think she was showering and leave her alone.

No one bothered her. She sat there for ten, then twenty minutes as the tears continued to come when she thought about Louis. Something had happened, she could feel it. Merlin's ghost, please let him be alright. She didn't know how she would even function if something actually happened to him. The idea of going through the rest of her life without the person who had been there since day one was not something she could even imagine. It had never been a thought to even cross her mind before today.

Her Uncle George was a twin. She'd never known her Uncle Fred; he'd died in the war, but she'd been told that he and George had been inseparable. Sometimes, she found herself surprised when her Uncle George would reminisce about being a twin to her and Louis since-—as far as she knew-—he was always just the one. She had to remind herself that he understood the connection and the bond unlike everyone else.

But she'd also heard that her uncle had never been the same after his brother's death. He was a quick-witted man who loved a good joke and told a great story, but as her father put it, he used to be so much more over the top—non-stop pranks, always one for a laugh, always dreaming of the next big thing. He'd apparently lost a lot of that light when Fred had died; while her father still saw flashes, they were generally fleeting. Apparently, the man she knew was only a shadow of the person he'd once been-—all because he'd lost such a big part of himself.

What would happen to her if she lost Louis? They were so very different, but he was still like her right hand. He balanced her out. He was the calm to her storm; the logic to her chaos. These thoughts made her somehow start to cry harder even though she wasn't even sure how she had any tears left.

She thought she saw movement in her peripherals, but didn't turn to look. She buried her face further into hands. She didn't care who it was, she wanted nothing to do with anyone right now. They could all fuck right off and she'd tell them so if they dared say one word to her.

But no one was there; there was nothing but silence other than the water falling all around her. Perhaps they'd gone or she'd been mistaken that anyone had even been there in the first place. Maybe this was what defending into madness felt like?

She pulled her head up after several more minutes, once she'd finally managed to stop sobbing. She was soaked to the bone now; the water matting her hair down to her head and making her clothes feel ten times heavier than normal. Tears were getting hard to come by now after nearly half an hour of straight crying, though the water falling down her face was doing a good job of making it look like she still could muster some. Her eyes felt red and stingy and her nose was running like a river, but she didn't give a shit. She truly didn't give a shit about anything now.

Movement in her peripherals again, only this time she turned to look. It was Jack. In the seconds she observed him before looking away, he'd seemed rather worried. He came over, apparently not at all fazed by the running water, and slid down beside her. She had wanted to tell him off and insist he leave her alone, but for whatever reason, she didn't. His presence actually triggered the urge to start crying again. She pulled the palms of her hands up to her eyes and just held them there as small sobs began to escape her once more. She felt Jack put his arm around her and pulled her toward him. He didn't say a word and she didn't resist as she let her head thud on to his shoulder.

She couldn't tell how long they sat there; she wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours since every minute she was living that day felt like an eternity. She got to a point where she couldn't cry any longer and was now just staring into space as if lost in a complete daze. She eventually lifted her head up off of Jack's shoulder and looked up at him. He met her eyes and she couldn't help but notice how absolutely exhausted he looked. It was only exacerbated by how wet he was, which only made her think about how she probably looked a thousand times worse. This day was slowly killing them both.

"I'm done," she said quietly, offering no more explanation as she started to stand up. She reached for the water faucet and turned it off. The room became eerily silent. She turned back to see he hadn't moved.

"I'm too tired to move. The water was actually very calming."

She couldn't argue that as she reached a hand out to help him stand. He reached up and grabbed it and let her tug, pulling himself the rest of the way. He started running a hand through his wet hair, flinging drops of water off as they both walked out and back into the now empty changing room.

They went about using drying spells and cleaning themselves up on separate ends of the changing room, which was actually incredibly mundane and dull and about the only thing Dominique felt she could handle doing at the moment. If it had been warmer out, she would have walked back to the castle sopping wet, but as it were, she'd catch her death if she walked out into that cold as wet as she was. The last thing anyone needed to worry about the health and wellness of another Weasley child.

Once they'd finished, they'd both walked out of the changing room into an empty tunnel; one that led to an empty path leading up to the school. She'd been surprised to see that, considering the shitstorm that had been out here before. She had to assume one of the professors had seen the reporters and told them off, but where was everyone else? How long had she been there?

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Late afternoon, I'd guess."

"How long has it been since the match ended?"

"At least a couple hours."

They made their way through the entrance to the school and Jack led the way up to Gryffindor Tower. As they passed through the portrait hole, she'd expected to find an incredibly somber crowd given everything happening as of late, but she'd actually been startled—very much so—by the jubilant nature of the room. People were laughing and talking loudly. It was like any other afternoon in the common room, which she was now offended by. Other than the fact that her brother hadn't even been missing twenty-four hours and people were apparently moving on, they'd also lost in Quidditch. That alone would have usually bought the mood down.

"Nicki!" screamed Albus Potter, who had been sitting nearby and had noticed her entering. "They found him! He's alive! Where have you been!?"

"They found him?" Jack asked.

Her breath caught in her lungs. It was almost as if she'd forgotten how to breathe for the second time that day. They'd found him? They'd actually done it? She eventually managed a huge gasp as she walked further into the common room feeling as if she needed to sit down. She went straight for the nearest chair, gripping the sides of it.

"Yeah!" Albus said, having followed her over. "About a half an hour ago they made the announcement on the radio. Everyone went mental. It was terrific. Longbottom's looking for you. He was just here."

"Did they say how he is? Is he alright?"

"They said he was alive and so was the girl from Beauxbatons. They got trapped, but they didn't say anything else."

Dominique stood from the chair, realizing now that Jack had gone over to the larger sofa to talk to their friends. Sarah was hugging him and Flynn was telling him something at a rapid fire pace. Everything seemed like a dream—at least, she assumed what this is one felt like. It certainly wasn't a nightmare any longer.

She stood and left the common room without a word, somehow now finding the energy to sprint down the many staircases that led to Professor Longbottom's office. In a frenzy, she went and started knocking repeatedly on his door. This went on for a minute until he finally pulled it open, looking half annoyed and half curious. His expression quickly changed into something far more welcoming when he saw who it was.

"You've heard, then?"

"How is he? Is he alright? Have you heard anything from McGona—Professor McGonagall?"

Longbottom stood back to allow her to pass into his office. She immediately went to take the chair she always did when she'd been called in here on occasion. Only, usually it was for bad news or to serve a detention.

"He's alive, that's all we know," he began, walking over to her. "They found him a few hours ago and he was taken immediately to a nearby hospital. Professor McGonagall and your parents are with him now."

She nodded. "Where was he?"

"He'd gotten trapped in a cave. They'd found it sealed shut by a rock collapse. He and the young lady from Beauxbatons were trapped there, though we don't know how. Louis wasn't in any condition to be talking, but they're hoping once he's been treated he can offer more of an explanation."

She found her face screwing itself up into a state of confusion. Rocks? That was it? That was what had stopped him? That seemed like an easy problem to solve for a wizard. "How did he get trapped by rocks? Why didn't he use his wand—?"

"That was my first question as well, but I found out he didn't have his wand. Neither of them did. They were both found without them. Again we'll have to ask him what happened." He shrugged. "But that mountain is full of strange and dark magic. There are many fascinating books on it if you ever get the time to read one."

How did they get onto the topic of book recommendations? "But they think he'll be ok? He's not clinging to life in a hospital somewhere?"

"I didn't get the impression he was clinging to life," Longbottom said tentatively. "Though, I also didn't get the impression he'd only gotten a few bumps and bruises. He's definitely going to have a recovery period."

She was nodding again, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by how happy she was. She had no idea how her parents and family did this every day during the war— not knowing who was alive or dead; the constant state of dread and worry. She'd only been at it for several hours and she felt as if she was falling apart. They'd done this for years.

"But, you can see it all for yourself tomorrow, if you'd like," he said, smiling at her. "Professor McGonagall—with your parents' permission—has arranged a Portkey for you. Just for the day, mind you. You'd leave after breakfast and return by dinner."

Dominique immediately straightened in her chair, now swallowing hard and finding that her mouth suddenly became very dry. "I actually get to leave? To go see my brother?"

He nodded. "Tomorrow. You'll be allowed a visit to the hospital if you want to—"

"Of course I want to!" she practically yelled. "Tell me where I have to be and what time and I'll be there. Have you asked anyone else to go? Sarah or—"

"Dominique," Longbottom said, stopping her right there. "The Portkey is for you. No one else."

She stared at him as if he'd just spoken to her in a foreign language she didn't understand. "Me? Why just me?"

"You're his sister. I'm sure Professor McGonagall is trying to not overwhelm him with a crowd. It's a family affair." He smiled at her. "Tomorrow, eight o'clock. Right after breakfast. Come to the Headmistress' office. The password is Tabby." He smiled. "Now do yourself a favor and get some rest."


	13. Snapped in Half

The first thing Dominique noticed was how absolutely freezing it was. Thirty seconds ago, she had been in the office of Professor McGonagall being handed a hatpin, and now she was standing in front of a very grey looking building in an entirely different country. She looked up the length of it, noticing it had to have been at least six stories tall. The language on the front wasn't one she recognized, though the red cross indicated that she was evidently in the right place.

She'd gone to bed early the night before; almost right after she'd returned from her meeting with Longbottom. She had a few minutes of happy celebration with Sarah and the others, but had excused herself quickly after that. Between the day she'd had and knowing what was in store the following day, the only thing that made sense was to sleep. She was fairly certain she's been out before her head hit the pillow.

She hadn't told anyone about her plans to see Louis that night or the following day. She wasn't even sure what she would have said. Sarah would have been devastated to know she couldn't go, so Dominique assumed she was doing her a favor by keeping it to herself. She didn't encounter any of her friends the following morning when she'd risen, seeing as they were all still well asleep by the time she'd dressed and made her way to the Great Hall. She'd helped herself to a quick, but hearty breakfast and then went to the Headmistress' office at ten to eight after not wanting to appear too early.

Professor McGonagall had been expecting her, and smiled as she entered into the vast circular space filled with books and instruments that made little sense to Dominique. The former Heads of Hogwarts were still asleep in their portrait frames as McGonagall stood to greet her from behind her desk.

"Miss Weasley," she said warmly, peeking over her glasses. "I'm happy to see you. Come in. It's been quite a weekend."

Dominique smiled. She'd never interacted much with McGonagall over the years, usually dealing with Longbottom instead. Most of her run-ins with the Headmistress had been in group settings or polite hellos in the hallway. She'd always come off as an intimidating woman with her stern expressions and constant appearance of needing to be somewhere else. Dominique's family had all said she was strict but fair when they'd known her as a professor, and they still recalled her fondly. Even so, Dominique always felt apprehensive in her presence—particularly now that they were one-on-one.

"You'll have to hold this," she said, presenting her with a hatpin from her desk drawer. "Please keep a very tight hold of it because it will be your Portkey for this evening as well. It will activate at six o'clock, and if you lose it…" She made a pinched face. "Then you've given me a lot of extra work. And I've had a very long thirty-six hours, so I would appreciate a small break."

She nodded and she gripped the hatpin tightly. "I won't lose it."

"Good to hear," McGonagall said. "I'm rather fond of that hatpin and would like it back." She half-smiled. "Do you have any questions before you leave?"

Dominique let her gaze travel to the ground before forcing herself to look back at McGonagall. "Is he…? That is to say, I know you've seen him. How bad is it?"

McGonagall took a deep breath and tilted her head to side ever so slightly as if she was thinking about how to answer. "He looked much better when I left last night. He was still unresponsive, but that was due to sedatives he was given. The Healers feel as if it's just a matter of rest and the proper care. They seemed to have complete faith that he'll recover."

"That's...that's good."

She smiled and checked her watch. "Your parents will be there to meet you. Make sure you've got a good grip on your Portkey. You'll be leaving any second. Safe travels."

Dominique muttered a weak smile, feeling oddly nervous about this particular trip. She had no idea where she was going or what she was about to witness, but this had been exactly what she'd wanted from the moment she'd heard the task was happening.

Now she stood in front of the grey hospital building staring at the front entrance; she took a deep, calming breath before she entered through the front doors. The reception area was blank and very sterile looking—white walls, a large white reception desk, white and off-white chairs. It didn't have the energy that St. Mungo's usually had, but instead just felt dreary and depressing. She hated everything about it already.

She walked to the reception desk, where two very blonde women sat busily sending paperwork off of their desk and flying out into the corridors. Neither woman acknowledged her right away and she quickly cleared her throat to get their attention. One of the women looked up and asked her something. It sounded Swedish or Finnish, but either way she had no idea. All she could do was mutter, "English? French?"

The woman reached over to alert her colleague. She said something that made the other woman stop what she was doing to ask, "English, you said? Can I help you?"

"Yes, I'm looking for my brother. Louis Weasley."

The woman seemed to recognize Louis' name immediately. "They moved him this morning." She reached out of a large ledger and tapped her wand to it. The pages immediately began flipping themselves almost entirely to the last page before stopping. She scanned it before looking back at Dominique. "Floor three. Room 313."

She thanked the woman, who was now pointing left and signaling to a bay of lifts. She followed her directions and went to join the small group of people that were queuing for the next available one. She seemed to have walked up just in time, following the crowd on board.

The doors opened on her floor and she stepped off with two other wizards. She'd barely looked around before she heard the incredibly familiar sound of her father's voice calling her name.

He was standing there, looking as if he'd been waiting for a lift himself. He looked like death—like a man who'd probably been through absolute hell in the last few days—but he was smiling at her in a way that made her feel the best she'd felt since Friday. She immediately began tearing up as she rushed over to throw her arms around him.

"He's alright," he said, wrapping her up so tightly that she felt he may not ever let go. "He's going to be alright."

She said nothing, just buried her face into his chest and let herself sniffle.

"I'm so glad you could come," he said, pulling away as she wiped her eyes. "Other than it being good for Lou, honestly, I just needed to see you. Your mother needs to see you. After the last few days, I wanted to physically account for all of you with my own eyes."

She smiled. "Is Vic—?"

"She came yesterday. Got here right after he was found. She went off to get some sleep, but she'll be back soon enough."

"Have you slept at all?"

"I'm fine," he said with a quick smile. That meant he hadn't. "I made your mother go back with Victoire last night to get some sleep, but she was only gone for about six hours. She doesn't seem comfortable being anywhere else but with Louis."

"I wish I could have come out sooner," she said. "Helped look for him."

"Trust me, sweetheart," he said, gesturing for her to follow him. "The entire search was chaos. And when you find out that he was only found by accident, which is a terrifying thought, you realize just how lucky we were."

"Accident? What do you mean?'

"It wasn't a well-known cave apparently. The mountain is full of them and this one is off the beaten path. The only reason someone recognized that the cave entrance had collapsed was because they'd stopped to wee when they'd been setting up the course and remembered seeing it differently the day before."

She gawked at him.

"So, Louis was discovered because some bloke had to have a wee in the woods and managed to remember things weren't the way they seemed the day before. We have that man to thank. Otherwise, who knows how long it would have taken. Who knows how long Louis would have had left."

"But he's going to be ok?"

"That's what I'm told and that's what I'm choosing to believe," he said, stopping outside of room 313. He reached out to open the large white door and let it swing forward. Inside, she could make out her mother's back as she stood over a bed that she was partly obscured. She turned at the sound of the door opening and immediately swung around to come rushing at Dominique. She'd reached out to hug her and pull her in as tightly as her father had.

"I'm so glad to see you," her mother said, kissing her forehead and looking as if she'd never meant those words more in her life. If Dominique didn't know any better, she'd have thought she was the one who'd gone missing.

"I'm glad to see you," Dominique said with a small smile before awkwardly peering over her shoulder toward the bed. There was a curtain that was partially obscuring her view of Louis' upper half, though she could make out the bottom half of him tucked in under a blanket. He wasn't moving, which made her think he was asleep. Her mother stepped out of her way, allowing her to move closer, though Dominique was afraid to proceed. She moved closer, edging tepidly nearer and nearer until Louis' face came into view.

He was asleep. And he looked mostly normal. There was a gash on his jaw and he seemed very pale, but otherwise, he looked exactly the same. Even his hair was neatly brushed on his head, which Dominique found odd—but then again, she could also picture her mother simply doting over him in a comatose state. It wasn't beyond her to comb his hair while he was lying there, mostly because that had always been a tic of hers. She'd always played with their hair as children—brushing it, running her fingers through it, always keeping things neat and tidy. She'd stopped that once she and Louis had gotten older, but this was as good an opportunity as ever to start again.

"He woke last night," her mother said, coming up beside her and putting a comforting arm around her. "very briefly, and then they gave him another sedative so that he'd rest. The potions they're giving him work best if he's sedated."

"What are they giving him?"

"Something to regulate his body temperature and something to help his organs function," her father chimed in from the seat he'd taken across the room. "He was freezing to death."

"Bill."

"She's not a child, Fleur," he said, looking up at his wife with tired eyes. "If Louis can experience it, she can hear about it."

"I don't think we need to emphasize the fact that he was near death," she said, reaching out to take Louis' lifeless hand.

"Is that all he's being given?" Dominique asked.

"A few more potions for pain and general healing," her father mumbled. "It's amazing what modern potions are capable of. I remember sometime over the summer, Teddy talking about one of these very potions being prototyped at St. Mungo's and now here we are." Her father started shaking his head in disbelief.

Dominique left her mother's side and walked to the other side of Louis' bed. She watched her brother, studied his features for a long moment before looking down at his bandaged left hand. She stared at it for a long time before finally asking, "What happened to his wand? I heard he lost it?"

"Dunno," her father said. "All we know was that he didn't have it. They found it, though."

"Really?"

Her mother was nodding from across the bed. "It wasn't far off the main path. It was sitting there in the dirt, snapped in half."

"Snapped in half?" she asked, her eyes drifting back to Louis' face as a sudden memory of the two of them going to pick their wands out together from Ollivander's crept into her thoughts. That seemed so long ago.

"Professor McGonagall took it with her and intends to send it to Ollivander," her father said as the door to the room opened once again. As he turned to look, he added, "They hope to have it back to him in the next week or so."

The person who had entered was a bigger woman with a lovely smile and a jovial nature about herself. She smiled at everyone in the room as she proceeded to walk directly over to Louis and wave her wand over him. She slowed her wand down at certain points and then sped it back up, suddenly jotting things down as she went. When she was done, she went to grab some sort of gadget that she was apparently going to use on Louis, but only then did she speak.

"Have you noticed any movement?" she asked in a heavy accent.

Her mother shook her head. "Should we?"

"No movement means that everything is working as it should." She started sticking things to Louis' arms and head that connected to the gadget, though she didn't explain what she was doing. Neither of her parents seemed confused or curious, so Dominique had to assume this had become normal procedure. The woman was again writing things down on her clipboard as she went, though she eventually stopped to smile sweetly at Dominique.

"Is this one yours, as well?" she asked her mother.

Her mother nodded. "Yes, this is my other daughter, Dominique. She and Louis are twins."

The woman seemed amused to hear that and was now smiling even more sweetly than before. "Twins. How wonderful. Who's older?"

"I am," Dominique said. "By a few minutes."

"I met your older sister yesterday," the woman said as she wrote more things down in an absent way. "I wouldn't worry too much about your brother. He's proven so far to be a very strong young man." She looked at their mother. "His vitals look well. Everything is looking very good. We are so close to being out of the sedation phase. Once he wakes again—" She checked her watch, "which I assume will be within the next couple of hours, we may not have to sedate him again."

"Oh," her mother said, taking a large breath of relief. "That is wonderful to hear."

The nurse smiled at her before turning it onto Dominique briefly. She made a funny sort of noise before giving her mother a reassuring squeeze on the arm. "You have a lovely family. All of your children are beautiful."

 _Was now the time?_ Dominique thought, though she noticed her mother seemed calmed by the words and appreciative of the kind sentiment. "Thank you."

Dominique glanced over and noticed her father was sleeping while sitting up, his head propped on his fist as he leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, but he must just have been that knackered.

"He's slept maybe an hour since Friday," she heard her mother say, noticing that she was watching as well. "We were at home when we received news about the task and no one had even attempted to contact us that it was happening that evening. We contacted Percy straight away and he had arranged a Portkey for us within the hour."

 _It's good to know powerful people,_ Dominique thought to herself, still watching her father as he began to slowly snore.

"I slept a little," her mother continued, "but it was restless. Knowing Louis was here just leaves me feeling unsettled. Did you manage to get any rest?"

She shrugged a little. "I slept last night once I knew he was alive. I wanted to be ready to come here. They made us play a Quidditch match yesterday even though Louis was missing." Her mother's eyebrows furrowed and Dominique already sensed the questions that were about to follow, so she just as quickly added, "It's a long story. But we lost."

"I cannot believe they did not postpone it," she said. "Your brother was missing. You should not have been expected—"

"Trust me, Mum, I know." She looked back at Louis. "It's in the past now. I don't even want to talk about it."

They both stood beside Louis and talked for some time. First about the hospital and the friendly nurses, then about the lack of communication from Durmstrang and how her mother wanted nothing more than to get as far away from that school as possible after days of agonizing frustration. She'd inquired about having Louis transferred to St. Mungo's, but that wouldn't be possible until he was stabilized.

Her mother talked of how she'd become rather friendly with the family from Beauxbatons whose daughter had also been trapped. She vaguely knew both of them from her own school days, though they had been a few years ahead of her. They'd bonded over their shared horrific experience and her mother found herself walking down the hall periodically to check in on the girl—Amalie—to see how she was progressing. She was apparently in a similar shape to Louis, though also expected to recover. It was the best news either family could have hoped for.

Dominique also discovered that McGonagall had been a world of help; throwing all the weight she had around in an attempt to get the search for Louis moving earlier and quicker. She seemed to be the only person in their camp that Durmstrang officials would respond to, and even then, it was lackluster.

"They do not seem to realize that their champions still must travel to Beauxbatons and Hogwarts, so perhaps they should be more cooperative," her mother said as the door to Louis' room opened. They looked up to see Victoire entering carrying a cup holder filled with paper coffee cups. Their eyes locked immediately and Victoire smiled.

"You're here," she said, as she set down the cups near her mother. "Thank Merlin."

Dominique grinned a little, watching as Victoire handed her mother a cup and then glanced over to her sleeping father. She put his cup back down. "Nicki, I'd have gotten you some if I'd known you'd be here."

"I'm fine," she said, still watching her brother's face as Victoire proceeded to ask her all the standard questions. How was she? Had she slept? How did the school handle things? What were people saying? How was Sarah? How was everyone? Once Dominique had run the gauntlet and appeased her sister's need for answers, the room once again grew very quiet—well, except for her father's snoring.

"When Louis was awake last night, what did he say?" Dominique asked.

"He was confused," Victoire said as she sipped her drink. "He didn't know where he was or what had happened."

"He wasn't awake for very long," her mother said. "The nurses came in and sedated him fairly quickly. We asked the Healer if memory loss should be expected and he said it was too early to tell, but entirely possible. It's also possible he was just terribly confused. I was happy he'd woken up."

Dominique wanted nothing more than for Louis to wake up again, though it seems she would spend the next several hours sitting around and waiting. Her father was out for two hours—even with all of them talking and Healers and nurses coming in and out—before he'd finally woken and acted as if he'd only dozed for a moment.

Victoire and Dominique walked around the hospital for a bit, sitting in the cafe and having a snack and then also walking laps of Louis' floor. They compared this hospital to St. Mungo's, which Victoire acted as a bit of an expert on since she now visited Ted there frequently. Dominique was too tired to even take the piss at her sister for her superiority complex about knowing a hospital well enough to comment on it, and instead let her blabber on about it.

Half the day had gone by with her doing nothing more than visiting with her family and staring at her brother's comatose body before there was finally some movement after lunchtime. At around one in the afternoon, while she and Victoire were doing a crossword puzzle they'd acquired in the gift shop—a shop that wasn't nearly as large as St. Mungo's, so said Victoire—Louis had stirred. He'd opened his eyes after a moment and began blinking and shifting in an awkward fashion, as if he once again seemed confused and out of sorts.

"Hey, Lou," said her father, who'd been standing closest to him. "Lou, you're alright. You're fine."

Dominique and Victoire stood up, watching as their father and mother talked Louis down from his clearly startled state. Victoire whispered to Dominique that this was how he'd been last night, though by now nurses were already rushing in. This time, a nurse had walked in and observed him for a moment, checked a few things with her wand, and then told everyone that she'd have the Healer on duty return shortly.

"What Healer?" Louis asked, sounding hoarse. "Where am I?"

Her mother had leaned in to kiss his forehead. "My darling. Everything is fine. You're being taken care of now."

Louis looked around, his eyes landing on Victoire and Dominique. That seemed to startle him even more. "Why is everyone here? How long have I been here?"

"Not long, Lou," their father said, reaching up to rub the top of his head. "You've been through a lot. You need to just calm down a bit and—"

The Healer had walked in with two nurses, both of them very serious looking, as the Healer in charge observed Louis in a pleasantly surprised sort of way. "You're awake."

Victoire grabbed Dominique by the sleeve and pulled her toward the door. "Let's give them a minute. It's crowded here."

Dominique hadn't really wanted to go outside since she was keen to hear what the Healer had to say, but she could barely move now that the room was plus three people. She also found herself uncomfortable watching Louis so disoriented, as if she only half recognized him, so she let her pull her away.

Victoire tried to get Dominique to help her finish the rest of the crossword puzzle out in the hallway, but Dominique was no longer in the mood. For twenty minutes, she sat wringing her hands as she and Victoire leaned up against the wall directly across from Louis' door. At one point, a man Dominique had never seen had stopped and thrown a polite smile at Victoire, asking her—in French—how Louis was doing. Victoire informed him he'd just woken up and was currently being evaluated by the Healers. This seemed to make the man very excited as he continued on down the corridor and disappeared into another room.

"That's Gerard, father of the Beauxbatons' champion," Victoire said before Dominique could ask. "Met him last night. Very nice."

"Has she woken up at all?"

She looked as if she wasn't sure. "Last I'd heard, just briefly; similar to what happened to Louis. But I haven't heard anything since. I'd assume he would have said something if she had."

They stood for a few more minutes, until the Healer finally emerged from the room speaking rapidly in a foreign language to one of his nurses, though he smiled at both Victoire and Dominique as he passed them. Dominique pulled herself off of the wall and walked back inside, seeing that the other nurse was finishing applying ointment to Louis' chin gash. He seemed calmer now and was listening to something their father was telling him. They all turned to look when Dominique had entered.

"Hey," Louis said, smiling a little weakly.

"Hey." She felt her eyes begin to sting with tears again, as Victoire suddenly appeared beside her. Just hearing his voice—his normal, not panicked, very much alive voice—had sent such a surge of emotion through her.

"Don't you dare," Louis said, as if sensing the tears. He was still smiling at her. "I told you I'd be alright."

"You're in the bloody hospital after nearly dying," she said, feeling more of her usual rapport with her brother suddenly taking over. "You've got a very loose definition of 'alright'."

"How are you feeling?" Victoire asked.

He shrugged a little, though his movement seemed pained. "Ok, I guess. Better than I was."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Part of it, yeah."

"Care to share?" Dominique asked him, though her mother was throwing her a look as if to say not to push him. No one else said anything; they all seemed just as curious.

"I remember going up there and never feeling so cold in my life," he said. "And it wasn't just the weather, it was that place. It was the worst place I've ever been. One minute you're fine, the next you feel a sense of sadness like you've never felt. As if you'll never feel happy again. Then you walk a hundred yards and feel fine again. There were these pockets of strange magic all over the place, they made you think things and want to do things you'd never do—like you've gone mad. I was with Zara in the beginning, and at one point, I had this urge to stun her out of nowhere. I fought it off, but it turns out she had the same urge. Then at another point, I felt like I was just madly in love with her, but it passed."

"Don't tell Sarah that part," Dominique said.

Louis immediately looked away from her and down at his hands. "Yeah. Anyway, these urges kept creeping up and I had to keep fighting them off. Zara had to keep fighting them off. We were almost going to split up just to protect ourselves from each other, but then a chimera charged us out of nowhere."

"An actual chimera?"

Louis pointed to his chin wound. "That's where I got this. Zara ran one way, I ran the other and that was the last I saw her. I was on my own after that."

"She was the second one back," Victoire said. "You ran the wrong way."

"Clearly," Louis said, examining his bandaged hand. "Anyway, I had to fight that chimera off. Kept moving, kept discovering more weird urges—one telling me to go give up, go home. I'm worthless. I just kept telling myself they weren't real, but I'm not going to lie, the weaker I got and the colder I felt, it got hard. They confuse you. At some point I got turned around and I had no idea where I was. I felt as if I walked forever. I was so cold that I was this close to calling it quits, but then I ran into Amalie." He suddenly grinned. "She was struggling as well. Lost as I was. We tried to help each other, but we were confronted by this creature. Eight feet tall, almost like a gorilla, but with a hideous face. I'd never seen anything like it."

"Shit," Dominique said, getting looks from both of her parents as she said it. She quickly muttered a small sounding, "Sorry."

"I tried every spell I could think of, but nothing stopped it. This is where details start to get hazy but I remember it had a force that was pulling at my wand. Every time I aimed a spell, my grip on my wand got weaker and weaker. Eventually it flew out of my hand and went straight to the creature. The same thing happened to Amalie. At that point, I assumed the worst, but luckily for me she's absolutely brilliant and has taken quite a few magical creature classes, because she screamed we needed to find a dark place because whatever it was, it doesn't like the dark.

"So we ran. I ran as fast I could until we found that cave and went deep inside. The thing wouldn't enter past the entrance, but then it screamed this awful screeching noise and stomped around a bit. It caused some rocks to fall and block us in. We tried to dig our way out, but it was too much. I could move some of the smaller ones using wandless magic, but not the large ones."

He looked over at his parents before looking back at both of his sisters. "I don't remember much after that. It was so cold."

Their mother had tears in her eyes now and their father was smiling in a way that could only be described as happy and sad at the exact same time. They all asked him more follow up questions, and he answered the ones he could, but he really didn't seem to remember anything that happened once he was in the cave. He expressed that he was disappointed in himself, to which both of his parents told him he shouldn't be thinking like that. Recovery was the only thing he should be worrying about.

"I'd like to get you transferred to St. Mungo's," their mother said. "Take you back. Then, you can come home and recover."

He made a face. "What about school?"

"You would nearly die and still be wondering when you can go back to school," Dominique teased.

Nurses and Healers returned to run more tests, and at that point both of her parents decided to go downstairs and grab something to eat and get a little air now that both Victoire and Dominique were there to keep Louis company. They sat through a half an hour of watching Louis get poked and prodded before the team of Healers finally left, promising to return in an hour.

"They let you out of school to come see me?" Louis asked.

Dominique nodded, pulling her chair up close to his bed now that it was free of people surrounding it. "They did, but I have to go back in a few hours. I don't think you're quite grasping the seriousness of what happened to you."

"I have a fairly good idea since I was there." He grinned a little. "But you can't get rid of me that easily."

She forced a smile. "I'm the only one they let come. I asked about Sarah, but they said family only."

He shrugged as if that didn't bother him, which Dominique was surprised by. She'd thought he'd be a bit more disappointed. "How'd the school handle things once everything happened?"

She sighed. "Everyone was really worried. You could drop a pin in Gryffindor Tower that night. Jack didn't sleep and Sarah and I barely did." She looked Louis dead in the eyes. "Don't even get me started on Sarah. She was an absolute wreck. She slept in your bed and when she wasn't crying she was snapping at people for not taking it seriously enough. She and I got in a little row, but she seems over it now that you were found." She smiled. "She practically held a vigil for you."

Louis forced a smile and he made a small noise of acknowledgement, but said nothing about it. Instead, he asked, "People must have been excited about Zara."

"I can't say that I heard much about her. I don't think too many people were willing to celebrate in front of me, all things considered."

"That makes sense."

"Heard your wand broke."

That was apparently news to him as his expression grew shocked. "What?"

"Did you not know?"

"I knew I'd lost it, but mum mentioned they'd found it. She didn't mention it was broken. I didn't think to ask."

"McGonagall took it to have it repaired," Victoire offered. "I'm sure Ollivander will do his thing and it'll be as good as new."

"I can't…" he said, shaking his head. "What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Sit in a hospital bed," Victoire said bluntly. "You need to rest. Hopefully get you to St. Mungo's and then back home."

"Why can't I go back to school?"

"Christmas holiday is coming up," Victoire said. "I assumed she meant to keep you home until second term started and you were fully recovered."

"That's nearly a month."

"Right," Victoire said, her eyes bouncing between both of her siblings as if she was trying to make her point very clear. "It's probably going to take you that long to get back to normal."

Louis was shaking his head. "No. I don't...No. A week tops. I already feel more like myself."

"Louis, you have about ten different potions running through you right now. Once they wear off, you'll feel like death again. Take it one day at a time, would you?"

Louis let his head flop back down on his pillow, his gaze on the ceiling. He didn't say anything, though he seemed aggravated. Dominique didn't envy him. She would hate the idea of knowing she was confined to a month's worth of recovery. If he didn't come back until the start of the second term, he'd be off again to Beauxbatons within a week or two after that. He'd barely have time to settle or see anyone before he had to leave. But this ultimately was what he signed up for.

Louis managed to stay awake for a few more hours, until about five in the evening when some of his potions began to wear off and—Victoire was right—he started to fall apart. He complained of pain and discomfort and became particularly irritable, snapping at people. The nurses administered him some new potions, but they warned that he would probably become very drowsy—which he did. He was sleeping shortly after.

Dominique went down to the cafe to eat with her family, though it was a quick meal since her Portkey was due to leave shortly. She told them all to tell Louis she said goodbye and hugged each of them. Her mother seemed especially cut up to see her go, but she kept repeating that it was just a matter of time before she'd be home for Christmas. They would all be back together for Christmas.

At six on the dot, Dominique gripped the hatpin and felt the swift pulling around her midsection pulling her through the air, delivering her back to Hogwarts and Professor McGonagall's office within seconds. As she landed with a thump, she noticed that both McGonagall, Flitwick, and Longbottom were all present in her office; each looking directly at her as she appeared. The clock on the wall was still dinging to announce the arrival of the five o'clock hour, seeing as they were an hour behind.

She was greeted by all of her professors, all with questions about Louis and how he was doing. She brought them all up to speed as best as she remembered, and each seemed to be relieved to hear that he'd been awake and alert. McGonagall took her hatpin back and proceeded to thank her for not losing it. They agreed that they would keep each other up to speed if any discovered new news of Louis' well-bring, and after answering all of their questions, she was excused.

She walked to Gryffindor Tower, only to find it bustling with its typical, busy, Sunday evening energy. The people who were on top of their homework were busy laughing and lounging around, while the ones who'd put it off all weekend were buried in books and attempting to get everything completed. Dominique really should have asked McGonagall for some sort of extension given everything that had happened, but it wouldn't have mattered. There would just be more piled on top of it and she'd constantly be playing catch up. She wasn't about to spend the rest of her evening pouring over Charms and Transfiguration in order to turn some sloppy, thrown together essay. She'd take the incomplete if any of her professors were prats enough to give her one.

Sarah and Jack were sitting together at a table, looking as if they belonged to the homework group. They were being better students than she was prepared to be. She walked over and pulled out the chair next to Sarah, sitting without a word.

Sarah glanced over and Jack looked up. They both looked surprised, as if a ghost had dropped in beside them, though it was Sarah who asked, "Where the hell have you been all day?"

She stared blankly for a long moment. She hadn't thought far enough ahead to realize that her disappearance today would be questioned. She wanted to tell them the truth, but she also didn't want them—Sarah, in particular—getting upset that they hadn't been included or that Dominique hadn't bothered to mention it sooner so they could send something along to Louis.

"Did you go to Hogsmeade?" Sarah asked, glancing over at Jack. "He mentioned you might have."

"That's what Natalie said you'd told her," Jack mumbled as he continued to work on his essay. "Something about meeting Davies."

Sarah pulled a face that she attempted to unsuccessfully hide from Dominique. "You spent the whole day there with him? That's...new."

"No," Dominique said, shaking her head and trying to remember when she'd even mentioned to Natalie her original Hogsmeade plans with Davies. "He and I split up."

Sarah's face lit up in a pleasantly surprised sort of way, though Jack didn't react one way or another. "Today?" Sarah asked. "Wait, did you spend all day with him and then break up with him? Did something happen?"

"We broke up yesterday before the Quidditch match," Dominique said, looking at Jack. "You knew that. I told you that yesterday."

He finally looked up at her only to shrug. "Who can tell with you two?"

"Fair point," Sarah said. Dominique wrinkled her nose at them, suddenly incredibly irritated with both of their reactions. But before she could tell them both off for not knowing what they were talking about, Sarah had reached into her bag and pulled out a copy of that morning's Daily Prophet. "Wait, if you split up yesterday? Then what's…?" She began flipping through the pages, and Dominique caught a glimpse of the front page as she did. On it, a large picture of Louis stared back at her with the headline reading, "FOUND."

"What's this?" Sarah asked, having apparently found what she was looking for. She held it out for Dominique to take.

Dominique did just that, now reading over the article in question. It had been titled, " _Hogwarts Reacts to Missing Champion_." She scanned it, seeing that it was mostly a collection of student interviews from the day before—dumb comments and quotes from people who were " _so worried_ " and " _hoping for the best_." Near the end, a paragraph had been dedicated to the fact that the reporter had attempted to speak to her, but " _in a state of clear emotional distress at the questionable state of her brother_ " she refused to comment. They were trying to paint her as an emotional wreck who lashed out at reporters for simply inquiring about Louis. Inquiring about Louis? They'd ambushed her outside of her Quidditch match and asked her whether she thought her brother was dead? This had to be a joke.

"Did you get to the boyfriend part?" Sarah asked.

"The what?" Dominique asked, though she only had to read on to the end to find out exactly what Sarah had been referring to. There was a quote from her " _boyfriend, Henry Davies_ ", who'd the reporter had spoken to right after the two had had a very private chat.

Dominique looked up at Sarah, now feeling mortified. Sarah was looking back at her as if urging her to finish. She didn't think she could.

_Her boyfriend of nearly a year, Henry Davies, told us, "She's of course in a rough space right now. Anyone would be. She and her brother are very close, so this is hard. You may have even heard shouting coming out of where we were, but she's just letting out her frustrations. Screaming, crying, that sort of thing. She puts on a tough exterior but she's really emotional. I know her really well and know she just needs some space in this difficult time."_

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dominique asked in an angry whisper, letting the newspaper crumble slightly between her fingers.

Sarah reached out to pull it from her hands. "Stop, I was saving this one for Louis when he got back."

She let her have the paper. "What the fuck is he on about? That private chat was me chucking him! When he gave this quote, we'd already broken up. He's talking about us being together—even though we weren't!" She started biting down so hard on her teeth that her jaw was starting to hurt. ""He knows me?' What is wrong with him?"

"Did you actually want an answer or is that a rhetorical question?" Sarah asked, causing Jack to chuckle.

Dominique stood up. She was too angry to deal with the jokes and laughs at her expense. She was emotionally exhausted, physically drained, and that fucking wanker had just helped the Prophet paint her as a basketcase to all of Britain. And on top of it, her two closest friends seemed to think this was a great time to take the piss.

"You can both piss off," Dominique said as she stormed away from the table. She didn't bother to look back or attempt to stop, even when they both called after her.


	14. Kill, Marry, F

Louis was transferred to St. Mungo's three days after Dominique had visited. He then spent a week recovering and managing his pain and irritability, which Dominique was told came in waves. In what proved to be a very small word sort of scenario, it was Ted who was responsible for making one of Louis' more experimental potions; he was one of only two people on staff at St. Mungo's who was qualified to do so. While that may have been a lot of pressure for Ted, it made her mother and father feel far more comfortable knowing he had a hand in things.

Dominique received a letter from her sister that Louis would be returning to Hogwarts just two weeks after the events at Durmstrang. It was Victoire who kept informing her that Louis—who was still required to take daily potions as needed—had fought endlessly with his mother about returning home; he wanted nothing more than to return to school and feel a bit of normalcy again. Their mother had apparently relented once Healers cleared him to return to most of his normal day to day activities. Their only instructions had been to continue with his potions and to take things easy—no strenuous activity.

Zara had returned to Hogwarts days after the first task. She'd gotten a huge welcome at the castle with nearly all of the school turning out to see her. Even Dominique had stood back on the perimeter of the crowds to watch, wishing that Louis' return could have been that simple. Zara was bandaged and a little banged up, but she looked good. She seemed happy to be home and happy for the support. It had been a nice moment to watch her friends rush to greet her. Louis' homecoming would be far quieter. She wasn't even sure when to expect him.

"I wonder why he hasn't written?" Sarah asked aloud to no one in particular. She had been sitting in the library with Dominique and two Hufflepuff girls, Ellibit Collins and Catherine Rainer. They'd all been grouped together for a Transfiguration project that had to be presented the following day. A moment earlier Sarah had been practicing her part about the restrictions of Conjuration, but she'd abruptly changed the subject out of nowhere.

"Louis?" Dominique asked, looking up from her own part of the presentation that she's been rehearsing. "Because he's in hospital?"

"But if he's well enough to be coming back tomorrow, he's clearly well enough to write. It's just...I haven't heard from him since before the accident. And I obviously didn't expect to right away, but I assumed I would by now."

"He hasn't written to anyone as far as I know," Dominique said, watching as Catherine and Ellibit stared blankly back at the pair of them, seemingly wondering how they'd even gotten on this topic.

Life at Hogwarts had gone relatively back to normal once the dust of the first task settled. Classes, Quidditch, homework, repeat. There was little time for anything else. People had not been kidding when they said seventh-year was non-stop, and those people didn't have to deal with the added stress of their brother nearly.

She'd written to Davies after reading his article in the Prophet. One final letter, she'd decided. It had been short, mostly peppered by the phrases "Fuck you" and "I never want to see you again" and "How dare you." She scribbled it all out in an angry fury and then sent it to him first thing the following day. Surprisingly, she hadn't heard a single thing back from him since. She could only hope that he'd finally gotten the message and was now gone for good.

"I bet you're really excited to see him," Ellibit asked Sarah, setting her quill down once it seemed as if they were taking a proper break. "I can't imagine being away from Mike that long."

Sarah smiled. For all her frustration at Louis not writing, Dominique knew it would all disappear the second she set eyes on him. "So excited."

"Is he completely healed?" Catherine asked, though she was directing her question to Dominique.

"My sister says he's still on some potions and will have to be for a bit, but if my mum's letting him back to school, he must be in really good shape. She'd have never even considered it otherwise."

"Funny he's coming back with only a week to go before the holiday," Ellibit said. "You'd think he'd wait."

"He wants to come back," Dominique said. "He misses it. I'm starting to wonder if he regrets this tournament just for the time it's kept him away."

"That makes two of us," said Sarah, taking a very heavy breath.

Sarah was especially on edge since she—or no one, for that matter—seemed to know exactly when Louis would be arriving the following day. She'd thought about cutting classes since she couldn't concentrate anyway, but ultimately chose not to once she remembered she had to give the crux of their presentation in Transfiguration. The rest of them would curse her if she bailed on their group.

Ellibit picked up Dominique's contribution to their project and was now correcting words and flipping things around, not that Dominique cared. It was no secret she was the weakest link in this quartet. She'd even jokingly—but also seriously if they were interested—offered to let them do her part and that she would read whatever they'd told her to. They were all high achievers who were counting on top marks; she was only looking for a pass.

"You'll need to reference your sources," Ellibit told Dominique. "Ivanson will mark you down if you don't have them listed. Such an easy way to lose unnecessary points."

"She's right," Sarah agreed. "We need to make sure every source is listed. Do you remember what book you used?"

Dominique sighed. It had been blue, that was all she could remember. But she still stood and muttered, "I'll go look for it."

"If you used more than one book, make sure you get the others as well," Ellibit called after her.

"Why would I use more than one book?" she mumbled under her breath, heading toward the shelves of books in the Transfiguration section. As she reached the aisle with the more advanced books, she immediately noticed Lira Chin standing there, casually flipping through a book as if looking for something. She mumbled a quick, "Sorry," and stepped to the side, as if she felt she was taking up too much space.

"You're fine," said Dominique as she began scanning the shelves for the book she'd used. There were hundreds to choose from; last time, she'd just asked Madame Pince for assistance and took the first book she'd handed her.

"I heard that Louis gets back tomorrow," Lira suddenly said, still flipping through her book and now apparently trying to make conversation.

"He does," Dominique said, not taking her eyes off of scanning the shelf. "Not sure when."

"I'm glad he's well enough to come back to school," she said, sounding sincere. "I'm not going to lie, I'll be happy he's back even if it's just for a bit." She made a tired sounding noise. "I can't deal with Ansel anymore."

Dominique looked over at her and smirked. In Louis' absence, all of his Head Boy responsibilities had been bestowed upon Ansel Baileymoore. Ansel, needless to say, had gone a bit mad with power and was constantly acting as if he was more important than he actually was. Dominique had heard during one recent Student Disciplinary meeting, he's tried to give month long detentions to two fifth-years he'd caught snogging in the corridor. Professor Ivanson had told him that a single detention was a more appropriate punishment, though Ansel argued that single detentions didn't discourage the behavior. It was also rare that something as minor as kissing would even get reported to the disciplinary committee, but it seemed Ansel reported everything.

"Ansel's never been happier," Dominique joked, picking out a book she'd thought was hers. She quickly discovered it wasn't.

"It's rather nightmarish for the rest of us," Lira said, snapping her book shut. "How's your presentation coming?"

"Fine," she muttered. "I think? I just do what the other girls tell me to do. I fully admit I'm the weak link."

Lira nodded a little. "It's the opposite for me. I'm the one doing all the work and telling the other three what to do."

Dominique already knew exactly who was in Lira's group because she'd taken note of them on the day Ivanson had grouped everyone off. She'd gotten assigned her friend Marlowe, Flynn, and Jack. She wasn't wrong in her assessment of the others. None of them were stellar students. They—like Dominique—were more about doing the least possible amount of work to pass.

"Well, I don't know Marlowe well enough," Dominique said, "but Flynn is truly hopeless and you're lucky to get any effort on his part. Jack will work, but," she shrugged, "just enough to pass."

"Lowe is exactly the same," Lira said, looking annoyed. "We should have switched groups."

"Oh no, I'm quite fine with being the weak link who gets top marks on the backs of everyone else."

Lira begrudged her a smile as she sidestepped her to exit. Dominique had assumed she was leaving, but she'd stopped suddenly. It was long enough that Dominique felt awkward by the silence and turned to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Lira was looking as if she was deep in thought.

"You alright?"

She nodded, snapping back to it. "Oh yeah, fine. I actually, um, I have a question for you." She quickly added, "I'm asking for a friend."

Dominique stared at her, but said nothing. Lira seemed to be waiting for her to speak, and when she didn't, she seemed to finally get the hint that she was supposed to continue.

"Right, so," Lira said, "I've heard so many different stories, but are you and Jack—?"

She felt herself straighten up. She hadn't been anticipating that.

"—are you two…? What are you two? Are you anything? Last I heard, you were with Henry Davies still and—"

"Davies and I are not together. No matter what you hear. We are done."

Lira nodded her head a little, seemingly ready to believe that. "Ok. And you and Jack?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Again," she said immediately. "I'm not asking for myself." She started shaking her head rapidly. "No, not my type. Not into the whole Quidditch thing. I'm actually more into the more academic types, and—" She stopped when she realized she was rambling. "I have a friend who's wondering what his story is."

Dominique puffed up her cheeks with air and let it all release slowly. She looked back at the shelves just so she had somewhere to put her attention that wasn't on Lira. What was she supposed to say? They'd had that moment in his room two weeks ago, though nothing since. Davies' random appearance at Quidditch that day had set things back, though she wasn't quite sure how forward they had even been going in the first place. She had no idea what his story was.

"Why are you asking me?" Dominique asked. "Isn't he in your group? Ask him what his story is."

Lira made a face, as if she already knew her answer would be dumb. "I would if I could, but I'm not allowed."

"You're not allowed?"

"My friend doesn't want me to say anything. She'd be embarrassed." She rolled her eyes. "Trust me, I know it's ridiculous."

"Who's your friend?"

"I don't want to say."

"Where did you hear that Jack and I are...anything?"

She shrugged. "I've heard a lot of different things. Some people say the two of you are into each other, but Davies was in the way. Others say it's an unrequited thing, but I can't tell on whose end. I've heard it's nothing and that you're still with Davies and people were just making up rumors since you and Jack are close and people like to start things. I guess that's why I'm asking you."

Dominique laughed a little. Bloody hell, this school liked to talk a lot of shit. Who knew her love life was of enough interest to people that Lira Chin had gotten so many different versions of it told to her.

"So, you can't ask him, but your friend is fine with you asking me?"

Lira's eyes went wide. "Absolutely not. She'd be mortified. But I keep telling her if she just sits back and waits for life to happen, it's going to pass her by. But she's shy. What can I say?"

Dominique found herself chewing the inside of her lip. She suddenly had a good idea of who this friend was. She walked down the length of the shelf so that she could get a better view of the tables in the study area. Lira and her group had been sitting just a few tables away from her group. Immediately, she saw Jack, Flynn, and Marlowe all talking, the latter of whom was currently smiling and showing Jack something in a book she was holding. Marlowe Quinn was a quiet girl—some would even say shy. Nice, mostly unremarkable, and tended to blend into situations because she fought very hard to do just that. Lira wouldn't be able to ask Jack anything in their group because Marlowe would be sitting right there. It would explain why Lira was asking her back here.

"I know it's none of my business—"

"Jack and I are friends," Dominique began, still not sure why she was even having this conversation. Usually she would have told her to fuck off and mind her business, but she oddly wanted someone to hear this; she wanted to say it out loud. Now that Davies was out of the picture, she realized she was going to have to put in some effort if she wanted anything to ever happen with Jack. As Lira said, she couldn't just sit back and let life pass by in the hopes that it would all work itself out. Denying things and keeping secrets only opened the door for other people. "I mean, we maybe could be more, but...it's complicated."

Lira nodded slowly. "So, does that mean it's...something?"

"I...we're..,it's...we haven't talked about it." She looked back at the shelves. "I should probably do that."

"Alright, then," Lira said, looking more confused than before she'd asked the question. "Well, I'll tell my friend and she can do with that what she wants. Which, knowing her, is probably nothing." She mustered a polite smile before walking off at that. Dominique watched as she returned to her table and began speaking to the group of them.

She let her eyes drift to Jack, who was listening to Lira speak. What the hell was she supposed to do about this? She had no idea; she'd never been in this position before. Everything with Davies had just happened before she'd had time to think about it, and she knew she shouldn't be taking any cues from that disaster anyway. With Jack, she fancied him, but...then what? What did people do next? How do you tell someone that without making a fool of yourself? Why was this so bloody difficult?

But she had to make an effort. That part was now clear. There had to be more on her end than some accidental flirting. Intent was now the goal. She had to show intent.

She walked out of the shelves and back toward her table, purposely taking the long way so that she'd walk by him. He saw her coming and made eye contact, immediately grinning in a sleepy sort of way—looking bored, but also happy for the distraction. She returned the grin, reaching out to tousle his hair as she passed. She had no idea why, but it had felt right in the moment. Without looking back, she felt that it had at least gotten Lira's attention because she could hear her stop speaking briefly before starting again. Perhaps Marlowe had been paying attention as well.

Dominique plopped down back in her seat next to Sarah, glancing back behind her to where she'd just been. Jack, too, was turned in his seat—his hair now messed up—but with a smile that begged to ask what that had been about. She did nothing more than continue to smile at him, noticing that even after he'd turned back around, he'd quickly looked back over his shoulder at her once more. Even Flynn was now looking, his eyes bouncing between the two of them as if silently asking what was going on.

Well, that had been something. She wanted to believe that. Baby steps.

"Where's the book?" asked Ellibit.

"Oh, shit."

The following afternoon—on the day Louis was due to return—Dominique found herself doing nothing that she was supposed to be doing. With only a week left of school before the holiday and all the Quidditch matches for the first term played, she no longer had evening practices to attend. She should be doing homework, but with her brother's impending arrival, she had no urge to do it. She was antsy and preoccupied, and had decided to distract herself by actually succumbing to one of Flynn's stupid games that he was always trying to get everyone to play around the sofas in the common room.

"Kill, Marry, Fuck," Flynn began, looking as if he was thoughtfully considering the next words to come out of his mouth.

"Who?" asked Jack, gesturing for Flynn to finish his thought. They'd already been playing for the last half hour and had burned through much of Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw.

Flynn hummed. "Alright. I chose Longbottom, Ivanson, Holt."

Jack cringed, clearly not interested in that selection. It made Dominique laugh while Natalie—who'd come over to join them and was now attempting to organize her Tarot cards for her Divination class—actually came up with her answer fairly quickly.

"Kill Holt. Fuck Longbottom, Marry Ivanson."

"You seem pretty confident in that choice," Flynn said, looking surprised. "You didn't even have to think about it."

"Holt's the worst. And Longbottom and his wife always seem really happy together, so that means he's doing something right. Plus, he's the only young one of the bunch who could probably still get it up. Ivanson's nearly a hundred."

"But if you marry Ivanson," Jack said, "you're going to have to have sex with him for the rest of your life."

"Rest of _his_ life," Dominique corrected, "which would be significantly shorter than hers."

Natalie was shaking her head. "Not necessarily. Plenty of people have boring, sexless marriages. We'd have one of those."

Flynn had started to laugh, despite the comment not being particularly funny. He was doing that a lot lately when Natalie spoke. "And if she needs it, she'll just go get her kicks from Longbottom."

Natalie smiled, sharing Flynn's amusement. They were both evidently on the same page about this ridiculous scenario. If it wasn't so bizarre, it might have been sweet.

"You're putting too much thought into this," Dominique chimed in, now turning toward the portrait hole. Louis should have been back by now. Given that it was now nearly dinner and he hadn't arrived, she had to wonder if perhaps it was even still happening. She had no idea what the hold up was or if the plans had changed; no one had said anything to her one way or another. Sarah had actually gone down about fifteen minutes ago to seek out some answers from the professors.

"You know, I like her reasons," Flynn was now saying as he gestured to Natalie, "I think my answers are the same as hers."

"No," Jack began to protest, "You can't opt out of the sex part of marriage. 'Fuck' is someone you'd be willing to fuck once and be done with them. Marriage means you would do them for life."

Everyone stared at him. He seemed to have quite a few rules about this game. It was Natalie who said, "Who knew you took this so seriously, Jack."

"I don't, but if you're going to do it—"

"Fine," Natalie interrupted, "I'll switch it. Marry Longbottom and fuck Ivanson—if he can even get that far."

"Maybe he's good with his hands?" Flynn offered.

"I hate everything about this conversation," Dominique said with a shake of her head as she tried her hardest to keep that visual at bay. "Let's do something else."

"Yeah, this is getting stupid," Jack agreed.

"Aw, no, come on," Flynn said. "It was just getting good. In fact, I've got a good one." He was pointing between the four of them, alluding to some variation of them to be the next targets. They'd avoided this thus far due to the obvious awkwardness and potential hurt feelings.

Jack was already shaking his head. "No. You're definitely not supposed to do the people you're playing with. That's against the rules."

"What are all of these rules?" Natalie asked. "There are no real rules to this game."

"Ignore him," Flynn said to her, seemingly keen to continue. He focused his gaze on her. "Alright. Kill, Marry, Fuck. Me, Jack, and…let's keep it in the same room. Louis."

Dominique inhaled sharply as she watched Natalie. This should be interesting. Louis was Natalie's "one that got away" while Flynn was the one she was currently chatting up. Dominique hadn't really been keeping tabs on the two of them recently, but she'd heard through Jack that there had been a bit of kissing and that they were definitely building to something. It now became obvious as to why Flynn was so keen to keep this game going. It was almost as if he'd been building to this moment with Natalie just to hear her answers. Shame he put himself up against Louis. This may not end as well as he'd hoped.

Natalie was definitely mulling things over. "Ok, well, I guess I have to kill Jack." She gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry."

He shrugged, not at all bothered by his sudden death.

"Then," she looked at Flynn. If she were to tell the actual truth, she'd fuck Flynn and Marry Louis. Flynn was the bloke at the moment, but Louis had always been the one for her. She was visibly hesitating before she finally said, "Then I guess I'd fuck Louis—only because I have, so—"

"Bleh," Dominique muttered, sticking her tongue as she looked away. She caught Jack smirking at her as if anticipating that reaction. She did not need to hear details of her brother's sex life.

"And marry Flynn." She smiled at him in a very particular way, as if that was some sort of sweet declaration of affection.

Flynn smiled back; the two were almost sharing a moment that Dominique now felt very awkward to be witnessing. It was especially awkward since Flynn didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that in the same breath she said she'd chosen him as the marrying type, she'd also admitted to picking her ex as the one she'd fuck—because she already had. This wasn't nearly as romantic or adorable as either of them believed.

Across from her, Jack was rubbing his face and quietly laughing. A very quiet, "What the fuck…?" escaping him.

Flynn had turned his grin onto Dominique. "Alright, your turn."

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"You've got my brother in the choices, you numpty. What do you think I'm going to say?"

"Just kill him."

She frowned. "I don't want to kill him. Especially when you're also a choice. I'm not doing it."

"Ok, fine," Flynn said, "I'll plug in someone else." He thought about it for a moment. "Giggleswick, then."

"Well, that's one way to not get yourself killed off," Jack said to him.

"So, fucking stupid," Dominique said, her tone purposely sounding inconvenienced. "But fine. If I must. Obviously I'm killing Giggleswick because there isn't enough alcohol or magic in the _world_ …" She shook her head. "Then I'll…"

She hesitated briefly as she felt all three sets of eyes looking at her. She obviously would marry Jack. That was, without question, the easiest decision she'd ever had to make in this game—outside of the killing of Giggleswick she'd just done. Still, outright saying it seemed awkward.

But this was exactly what she'd come to the conclusion about yesterday; that she needed to make things more obvious. She needed to put herself out there.

"I guess I'd marry Jack," she offered, her tone lighter and more breezy than she was usually capable of. "He's the only one of you I can tolerate for more than five minutes."

Flynn smirked at her. "Is that the only reason? Nothing else makes you want to...?"

Dominique blinked, startled slightly by the bluntness of his question. She may have even blushed a little. She glanced over at Jack, whose expression was half awkward, half surprised by Flynn's comment. He looked as if he were about to hit him and tell him to knock it off, but he never managed the chance before Dominique sputtered, "I—I mean, that's—He's just...He's...Look, I obviously like him best out of those choices, alright. I thought everyone already knew that. Why wouldn't I have chosen him?"

Flynn turned his dumb smirk onto Jack, who in turn said nothing, though looked mildly surprised. Not upset, not embarrassed; nothing but a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

She couldn't take the silence any longer. She needed to break this up in the only way she knew how. "In fact, fuck it. I've decided I'm killing Flynn, too."

Flynn's smirk disappeared. "You can't do that."

"Can too. In this game, I'm a serial killer." She gestured to Jack. "Probably would eventually have to kill you, too. Sorry about that."

He shrugged, though he was now actually smiling. "It was good while it lasted. He's hoping we got a few good years out of it."

She was definitely blushing a bit now. She glanced back at the portrait hole, wanting nothing more than Louis to turn up right this second and cause a distraction. "Anyway, it's someone else's turn."

"Well," Flynn said, sounding rather amused, "with that, I say we throw it over to Jack. Kill, Marry, Fuck. Her," he pointed at Natalie, "her," he pointed at Dominique, "and...let's go with Sarah."

Jack was already shaking his head before Flynn had finished speaking. "I won't do it with people I'm playing with. Nothing good ever comes from that."

"Bloody hell, everyone else has." Flynn said, his expression one of sheer annoyance. "Don't be boring. It's not as if we all don't know exactly how you'll play it." He pointed around the group. "Kill Nat, Fuck Sarah, Marry Nicki."

Dominique sat silently watching as Jack, now looking put on the spot, laughed a bit and mumbled, "You think so?"

"I'd bet every Galleon I have. Am I wrong?"

He shrugged.

"Take my money if I'm not."

"You don't have any money to take. You're always asking to borrow mine."

"You know I'm right."

She had to admit, given Jack's body language, that Flynn was probably onto something. Even if it was a stupid game, she couldn't help but get a small thrill that he'd have picked her for arguably the best one. In the past, almost every person she'd ever played this game with had always picked her to die. She did occasionally gotten a random 'fuck' if the other choices were truly abysmal.

"Whatever you say," Jack muttered, now examining his hands.

"You're a sad arse," Flynn said, now moving to the edge of his seat and closer to Natalie. "Whatever. My turn now. I'll kill Nicki because…" he looked over at her, "don't think I need to explain that."

"You don't," Dominique said, once again not surprised she had to die. Though, this time she found herself cracking a smile at the inevitable shitstorm that was now coming. "But I think you really need to think about your other choices before you kill me off. Might be easier to keep me around."

"What?" Flynn asked. "No, see, kill you. Marry Natalie." He smiled at her. "And…" He stopped—the realization of who was left now flooding all over Flynn's face. Dumb git had to admit to Natalie that he'd fuck Sarah, of all people. Worse yet, he was the one who'd picked the people and put himself in that position. Natalie was the jealous type and, game or not, she did not want to hear this. It was evidenced by her now intently reading her Tarot cards.

"What was that last one, Flynn?" Jack asked, now egging him on. "I forgot."

"This game is stupid," he said, learning back in his chair.

"Yeah, but who was that last one? You really should finish."

"Fuck off."

Jack had started laughing, claiming that he tried to warn him. It caused Flynn to punch him in the arm, which made Jack recoil, but also laugh even harder. That seemed to set off Flynn even more as he suddenly looked at Dominique before turning back to Jack. "Why not tell her the real reason you've picked her to be the marrying one?"

"I didn't pick anyone," he said coolly. "You picked for me, I kept my mouth shut."

"So, are you saying you wouldn't have picked her?" Natalie asked, jumping into this conversation for some reason. Flynn immediately piggybacked off that question and was now silently urging Jack to answer. They seemed to be ganging up on him.

The laughter had disappeared from Jack's face entirely as he looked between them. "What the fuck are we even talking about? You understand this is a game, right? It's not real."

Dominique stared at him. He wasn't wrong—it was a game—but with that said, since it was just a game, who cares? Just answer the bloody question. She'd even done it, and she was not the type to usually go along with this sort of thing easily. But she again was trying to make an effort. She wanted to let him know how she felt in the hopes he felt the same.

But maybe he didn't. Maybe she'd read that moment in his room a couple of weeks ago entirely wrong or perhaps something had happened to change his mind. Maybe he wasn't saying anything because there was nothing to say.

Now she felt like an idiot.

"No shit it's just a game," Flynn said, "which is why no one can understand why you're—"

"Because it's stupid!" he argued.

Dominique stood at that, not saying a word and not looking at anyone as she turned to leave and go anywhere else. She already felt stupid for participating as much as she had; leaving herself even the least bit vulnerable. The one time she let her guard down and put herself even the slightest bit out there and look what happened? She couldn't even get an answer, to a dumb question, in a bloody game.

She'd walked straight out of the portrait hole and down the stairs, hoping to find Sarah. She'd settled on going to the Great Hall if she had to since it was dinner now; despite not being hungry, it was at least an escape. Why…? Why did she bother? She'd spent so much time actively avoiding boys and she'd been fine. Fourth and fifth year had been a breeze when her only concerns with Quidditch and school, but ever since Davies kissed her in that corridor, so much of her life had gone to shit. What she wouldn't give to go back to that simpler time.

She had reached halfway down the stairs when the sound of someone approaching—and a quick, "Hey, Nic"—followed. She immediately closed her eyes when she recognized the voice. She was already embarrassed. She had been hoping for a few minutes to collect herself.

"Hey," Jack repeated once he caught up to her, though she didn't look at him. "Everything ok?"

"Yes."

"You walked out without saying anything."

"Didn't know I had to."

"Did someone say something?"

She felt herself wanting to grimace, but managed to fight it off. "No."

He was keeping pace with her as they walked; she could feel his eyes on her. He then very tentatively asked. "Did I say something? Or actually, did I... _not_ say something?"

She actually laughed a little at that, but then immediately hated herself for doing so. She was supposed to be cold and clipped right now. He wasn't supposed to be making her laugh.

"Because that back there was me not feeding into Flynn's bullshit. It had nothing to do with anything else. He needs to mind his own business."

She could acknowledge that Flynn being a prat was normal and that him minding his business was something he needed to work on, but she still could help but shake the feeling she'd had while up there. How badly she wanted to just ask him what the hell was going through his head; whether or not she was wasting her time, But she knew she wouldn't. Not here and now. She'd already felt she'd let her guard down too much earlier. She needed to recuperate from that.

"It's fine," she said, brushing him off. "Really. I just thought I'd come see where Sarah had gone off to. Maybe eat. That game was getting old. I was bored, so I left."

He nodded as things immediately felt more casual between them. "It got old the second I realized Flynn was just trying to talk up Natalie. He doesn't have the bollocks to have an actual conversation with her, so he uses the game."

"He's stupid."

"Right? Talk to her like a bloody adult."

They looked at each other then, but then immediately looked away. Jack added, "Um, yeah, plus it backfired on him when she's bringing up sleeping with Louis, then he's picking to smash Sarah. He's an idiot."

She found herself laughing again, despite the fact that she both agreed with him and felt rather stupid herself. She'd essentially done the same thing Flynn had—used the game to get some feelings off of her chest. To be fair though, she was new to all of this. If that was an amateur move, then she was clearly an amateur. She liked to think she had an excuse.

They reached the Great Hall, and she'd been moments away from continuing on inside, when something familiar caught her eye near the entrance of the school. She actually had to double take when she saw what appeared to be a small gathering of people—three to be exact—with what looked like her brother at the center. When she stopped to stare outright, it became clear that it was Louis.

"Louis!" she shouted, gesturing to Jack to look where she was pointing. Louis was talking to Longbottom and McGonagall; at the sound of his name, he turned to look. From behind her, a few random people who had been making their way to dinner stopped to take notice; voices and whispers carried over announcing to each other that Louis had returned and that he was standing right there. Dominique didn't bother to stick around and instead went straight for him.

He looked world's better than the last time she'd seen him. His gash was gone without even a trace left on his face. His color was good and his eyes seemed alert. He looked as good as new and she immediately went and hugged him, which was something she'd been afraid to do at the hospital with how fragile he'd been. Now, he looked normal. He looked stronger and healthier.

"Hi," Louis said after they'd pulled apart. "Was wondering when the welcoming committee got here."

"No one knew when you were coming, but we've been waiting all day," she said, seeing that Jack had followed over. He and Louis were exchanging happy grins.

"Good to see you, mate," Louis said as he reached out to hug Jack.

"You have no idea," Jack said, once they pulled apart. "I'm really going to need you to not nearly die again."

"You and me both," he said, patting him on the back as he glanced politely back at McGonagall and Longbottom.

They all seemed to be done with whatever they'd been chatting about and were permitting him to leave, though Longbottom did add. "Mr. Weasley. Madame Pomfrey will be expecting you soon. I suggest stopping by when you can."

"Wouldn't dream of missing it," Louis half joked, sounding tired. When he noticed Dominique staring at him curiously, he added, "One of the potions I'm still on makes me very drowsy, so I need to talk to her about it." He shrugged. "Me and Pomfrey are going to be best friends this week."

"I can't believe mum let you come back."

"I'm mostly fine," he said as they dawdled just outside the Great Hall; he didn't seem to want to walk inside quite yet. "I just get tired all the time and I can get cranky a little more easily. Nothing awful, though."

She and Jack smiled at him as he started looking around at the people who were making their way into dinner. Some stopped to wave, others to whisper and point. Louis seemed uneasy under their gaze and turned his back on them.

"I can only imagine what people have been saying."

"No one's been saying anything," Jack said, looking over at her to back him up. "Just wondering when you'd be back and asking about how you were doing."

She nodded. "What are you worried they're saying?"

"Usual shit," he muttered. "How I couldn't even finish the task. How I fucked it all up. How there's really no way I can even win this thing anymore unless I come in first for the next two tasks; even then every one of the front runners would also have to fuck up. How I'm basically a bust."

"No one's saying anything like that," Jack said. "If anything, they think it was fucked up that Durmstrang was being so shady about the bloody task to begin with. I've actually heard someone started a petition to get McGonagall to somehow pay them back with their own fucked up, highly biased task."

"I can't even imagine anything she'd be able to do that would be Hogwarts specific," Dominique said.

"The lake?" Jack suggested.

"They have lakes at their schools," she said. "And it's not as if Louis or Zara would be particularly familiar with our lake anyway. Unless, McGonagall somehow bribes the giant squid to—"

"Can we not talk about the tournament?" Louis asked bluntly.

Both she and Jack immediately responded with a chorus of, "Yeah," "Of course," "Sure thing," as Jack gestured to the Great Hall. "You hungry?"

Louis hesitated. "I am, but I don't know if I'm mentally prepared to walk in there right now. I feel like loads of people are going to try and talk to me and I'm not there yet."

"Then say the word and I'll tell them all to fuck right off," Dominique said, grinning widely. "You know I will."

He grinned a little lazily and was still seemingly deciding whether or not he wanted to go in when Dominique suddenly wondered where Sarah was? She'd be waiting all day for him like a puppy at the window and yet, now, she was nowhere to be seen.

"You haven't seen Sarah yet, have you?"

Louis looked at her, though there was something in his gaze she couldn't place. He shook his head slowly. "No."

"She came down ages ago to shake down the professors and ask where you were," she said. "I don't even know where she would have gone."

Jack had stepped over in front of the entryway to the Great Hall and was now searching inside. He seemed to be scanning the room. "I think I see her at the table." He looked back at them. "Probably just missed you."

"There you go," Dominique said to her brother. "Tell everyone else to fuck off so that you can go see your girlfriend that you haven't seen in over a month. Who can argue that?" She tugged on Louis' arm to get him to follow, but he didn't budge. His feet were planted firmly on the ground.

"I...I don't have it in me to see everyone," he said, taking a step back. "I'm not even that hungry." He glanced up toward the stairs. "I'm actually starting to feel really tired. I think I'm going to go see Madame Pomfrey and take that potion that puts me out." He threw them both a small smile that was unlike his usual, charming one. "It's been a long day. I think I can handle this better tomorrow."

"You're not even going to say hi to Sarah?" Jack asked. "I can go get her for you. You wouldn't have to go in."

He shrugged. "No, let her eat. I'm back now. I'll see her soon enough." With that, he nodded at them both. "I'll be in better shape tomorrow, I tend to crap out at the end of the day. But I am glad to be back. Glad to see you both." With that, he turned in the direction of the hospital wing and called a half-hearted, "See you," over his shoulder.

Dominique watched him go, but now had far more questions. She could understand not wanting to face the large crowd, but not wanting to see Sarah? In the past, they barely were able to handle being separated during classes. Now, after all these weeks, he was being cavalier about it? She'd have assumed they'd been running across the school to jump into each other's arms by now. Those potions really were fucking with him.

"Is he really going to bed?" Jack asked, checking his watch. "It's half past five."

She didn't know what to say. She could only shrug and remind herself that he'd nearly died and was still recovering. This was temporary.


	15. Anything's Possible

After a few days of Louis being back, Dominique was starting to believe her mother had been correct; he should have stayed home for the week to finish recovering.

He was moody and tired all of the time; he barely went to classes—which was permitted given his condition—and instead spent his time up in his room. He claimed he was too tired to sit around the common room, and that he found the noise and busyness annoying, but it was strange to see him go from one of the most social people Dominique ever knew to being a recluse. The silence of his bedroom at home would have been far more appropriate than the crowded rooms of Gryffindor Tower.

Things were obviously hardest for Sarah, who really didn't seem to know how to adjust to his behavior. She offered to simply sit with him upstairs when he wanted to retreat, but he would tell her it was pointless since he was just going to sleep. She told him she could read or do homework or even sleep beside him, but he always said that he didn't want her wasting her time when he would just be sleeping. It was clearly crushing her a bit, but she would often remind herself—and anyone else who would listen—that he was in a really rough patch and still recovering. He needed some time and space and she was willing to give him that. The potions were making him different and she'd be here when he came out of his haze.

Four days after Louis had returned—and one of the last days before they broke for the holidays—Dominique and Jack had found themselves attempting to finish the last of their Charms assignment during their shared study hour. It was due tomorrow, and while Flitwick was sure to assign them two-thousand pages of reading over the holidays, once this packet of revision work was completed she would be free—at least for two weeks—of any immediate Charms work deadlines. She was so close to the end, she could taste it. Of course, she still had Transfiguration and Ancient Runes to complete after, but she was focusing on the positive.

"Done with page twelve," Jack said, sliding his completed page across the table to her. "You finished?"

"Give me a minute," she said, marking an answer before moving onto the next. She and Jack had decided to divide their packet in half by splitting the work and exchanging the pages. "I'm almost done."

She heard Jack greet someone, but didn't bother to look up until she'd finished with her last question. When she did, she saw Louis standing there and observing the mess of Charms work all over the table. "What are you working on?"

"Charms," she said, sliding her finished page across to Jack. She then pulled his toward her and began filling in her blanks with his answers.

Louis didn't say anything right away, but he started reading over Jack's shoulder as he went about filling in bubbles. He suddenly pointed down to Dominique's page and said, "That's wrong. It should be B, not C."

Jack marked B while Dominique shrugged. "Can't make it too perfect or Flitwick will know it's not me."

Louis picked up his sister's packet and began reading it over. Both she and Jack watched, though it was the latter of whom who said, "Feel free to share if anything comes to you."

He continued to read the page in silence for several moments more before finally saying, "A. A. C. D. B. C. A. D." He then tossed the packet down on the table.

"I'm going to need you to repeat that," she said, grabbing her quill.

"I've missed that big, beautiful brain of yours," Jack joked, scribbling down everything Louis had said. Louis was grinning in a way that she hadn't seen him do since he'd been back. He looked amused and happy—much more like himself. It reminded her that he was clearly still in there; they were just waiting for him to fully reappear.

"I'm down to one potion," Louis said several minutes later, after he'd helped them with the remaining three pages—which took him a quarter of the time it had taken them to do the same amount of work. Pomfrey said I didn't have to take the other two anymore, which is good because those two were the ones that fucked with me."

"That's fantastic," Dominique said, genuinely happy to hear that. "I was just thinking that you seemed more like yourself."

"You do," Jack said. "You actually stopped to talk to us instead of heading straight to bed."

Louis' expression was still tired, but he forced a smile. "I just want to feel normal again. "

"You know what's going to make you feel more normal?" Dominique asked.

"What's that?"

She reached into her bag and—with an overly large smile—pulled out her Transfiguration book and shook it playfully in his face. "Your favorite subject."

He scoffed, but it didn't stop him from taking the book from her. "What page?"

It was the nicest and most productive hour that Dominique had with her brother in ages. They were laughing and talking; he was giving her shit for not knowing some of the most simple Transfiguration concepts. He and Jack were even back to acting like their old selves—which sometimes meant reverting back to being fourteen again given some of their inside jokes that even Dominique wasn't privy to know the story behind. Things seemed so back to normal that she had almost forgotten that anything had ever changed in the first place. It had been such a nice change of pace to have Louis back properly that she didn't want to leave to go to class.

A random sixth-year girl by the name of Gemma suddenly approached their table. She smiled at all of them, but her eyes settled immediately on Louis. "Professor Ivanson wanted me to remind you about the Honour Club Christmas Party tomorrow night."

Louis immediately groaned. That apparently hadn't been something he wanted to be reminded of. The annual Honour Club Christmas party was apparently a stiff, upper crust affair for all the students of Hogwarts that were deemed important enough to be members of the Honour Club. This was reserved for the prefect types, the heads of clubs and Quidditch teams, anyone else who'd gone and made some sort of honorable impression on Professor Ivanson—the current chair of the club. Louis and Jack had both been inducted, but Dominique hadn't ever had a reason to be. In the past, Louis had generally been fairly active, whereas Jack never cared.

"You don't have to go," Jack said, looking from Louis to Gemma. "It's optional."

"As Head Boy, it is expected," Gemma said, sounding as if she'd been taken off guard by the lack of enthusiasm. "As Head Boy and a champion," She paused for effect. "Let's just say there's a reason Professor Ivanson asked me to specifically remind him and not anyone else. For everyone else, it's optional."

"I have to go," Louis mumbled.

"You don't have to do anything," Dominique said. "You almost died. You're still recovering. Fuck Ivanson."

Gemma gaped. She evidently was not expecting that.

"I told you I'm feeling better," he said, glancing back over at Gemma. "Tell him I'll be there."

Gemma nodded slowly, throwing Dominique a look that almost felt as if she were silently scolding her before turning on the balls of her feet without another word. She was off toward the portrait hole and presumably to report the news to Ivanson.

"You do not have to go to that thing," Dominique said.

"Yes, I do."

"It's so boring," Jack mumbled. "Last year's party was the only Honour Club thing I've ever done, and I only went because you told me we could drink—"

"You could," Louis interjected.

"Yeah, but it's a fancy dinner party drinking with your professors," he said. "It's so stuffy and possibly the least fun evening anyone can have."

Louis' face seemed to say he couldn't argue that. The portrait hole had opened again then and several people were entering—either done with their day of classes or quickly popping back between them. That was the signal to Dominique that she needed to get going if she wanted to make it to her last class. Jack, too, was packing up his stuff, though Louis—with nowhere to be—sat watching them both. They were all so preoccupied that they didn't even notice that Sarah had arrived and walked straight over.

"You're up," she said tentatively, smiling a little at Louis. She seemed awkward next to him, as if she wasn't even sure how she was supposed to proceed. Dominique couldn't blame her given Louis' moody behavior as of late, but she would probably be thrilled to see he was coming around again. If the last hour was any indication, things would be looking up and returning to normal very shortly.

Louis seemed startled to see her and stood up rather quickly. "I...yeah. I am. For a bit." He glanced at Dominique. "I think I may have pushed myself too hard, so I was going to go lie down."

Sarah said nothing, though she didn't seem surprised at all. Everyone's eyes were now on him, which made him fidget and look around. It was strange that he'd been seemingly fine for the last hour, but then suddenly needed to crash. But that was essentially how he'd been all week. His recovery was apparently a marathon, not a sprint.

"Mate," Jack said, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he began walking toward the portrait hole to leave, "Do you really think you're going to make it through a Christmas party tomorrow if sitting in a chair and doing homework gets you so knackered that you have to take a nap afterward?"

"You're going to the party?" Sarah asked. "The Honour Club one?"

"I sort of have to."

"Do you?" she asked with her eyebrow raised. "Because it probably isn't—"

"Yes," he snapped, though he immediately seemed to regret how that had come out. In a far calmer tone, he said, "Yes. I have to."

Sarah took a deep, calming breath and looked away. She'd been doing that a lot lately when dealing with Louis. Dominique had to give her credit for not flying off the handle by now, but she was doing a masterful job of keeping her cool. "I just didn't think you'd want to go."

"I don't want to," he said. "I have to. There's a difference."

Sarah took another deep, calming breath. "Did you want me to come?"

"If you want." He started rubbing his eyes in a sleepy sort of way. "I just have to."

"And I just have to go to class," Dominique said, now more than ready to leave this conversation. She glanced at Sarah. "See you at dinner." She turned to Louis. "Maybe you?"

"Maybe," he said. "I'm going to…" He pointed toward the dorms. "The withdrawal of stopping those other potions is starting to hit me so…" He nodded a few times before excusing himself without a word. Dominique glanced over at Sarah, who was watching him go. She reached out and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder before walking away.

Louis was nowhere to be found for the rest of the evening, and even the following morning, Dominique hadn't spotted him anywhere at breakfast or in the corridors. Flynn had mentioned him still being in bed when he left for class, so perhaps he was resting up for the party that evening—a party that Sarah was clearly starting to dread.

"I don't even want to go," she said at lunch, her demeanor antsy and she drummed her fingers on the table. She was watching as Professor Flitwick was charming red and green decorations to hang themselves along the walls of the Great Hall. They'd just brought the Christmas trees that morning.

"It'll be...fine," Dominique said, her mouth full of the sandwich she was trying to eat while also finishing the last of her Runes translations.

Sarah shook her head. "How am I supposed to spend the whole night with Louis when I can barely have a conversation with him the way he's been? You've seen him. I've been giving him space and time, but he's...I mean, we've barely spoken."

"I'd barely spoken to him before yesterday," Dominique offered. "Yesterday was the first day I'd even seen him acting somewhat normal."

She glared at her. "Lucky you."

"You came around after he'd tired himself out," Dominique offered, feeling as though she was almost making excuses. "He almost died. Let's not forget that he's been through hell. Maybe a night of just the two of you is what he needs. It'll jog his memory."

Sarah looked away again, her head starting to shake. "I doubt that."

"Then don't go."

She sighed. Dominique already knew that Sarah didn't even consider that an option. Poor Sarah, always doing the right thing even if she didn't want to. She didn't want to spend the evening with this Louis, but she did want to spend it with the one she knew and loved. That person was lost up in his foggy, potion filled head somewhere. Dominique suspected that Sarah was starting to fear that person was still lost up on a mountain near Durmstrang.

"I don't even know what to do anymore," she muttered. "I feel like he's annoyed when I'm around and I can't do anything to fix it."

"He's been annoyed by everything. The common room annoys him, crowded spaces annoy him, people he doesn't know who ask him about what happened annoy him—"

"And his girlfriend annoys him," Sarah finished. "He doesn't seem annoyed by you."

"He's perpetually annoyed by me," Dominique said as she went back to attempting to translate a particularly nasty coded message. "He just knows how to tune me out better than others. He's had over eighteen years of practice—if you count when I was probably pestering him in the womb."

"I can't explain it, but I saw you, him, and Jack talking yesterday and it seemed normal. I actually got really excited, but then the second I walked up—" She made a face as if to say it had then gone to shit.

Dominique could only say that he was tired so many times before the excuse no longer held water. Even if he had been tried, there hadn't been any reason to be rude.

"I'm actually surprised he didn't tell me to skip the party," she mumbled, looking down at her full plate of food that she hadn't touched. "Everything else I've offered to do for him he's told me not to bother."

"He can't stop you from going. You're in the Honour Club as well. You were invited."

She looked back up at her. "Right. And had I just been his date, he probably would have told me not to bother. He'd go alone."

"You don't know that."

"I do. He's acting like he doesn't care anymore and lost all interest. We've kissed maybe twice since he's been home and I feel as though the only reason we did was because it was easier for him to do it than not."

"Sarah, he nearly died. Give him a break."

"And I have been!" she said defensively. "Just because I want to feel wanted by my boyfriend doesn't mean I have't done everything in my power to give him the space and time and whatever the fuck he needs. I can only give so much."

"Look, he's—-"

She was already rolling her eyes. "I don't know why I even bother. You will always be in his corner to defend him."

"Hey," she said as she felt the sting of that barb. "That's not fair. I fully agree with you that he's been a git lately. But, he's also been through a lot and maybe needs more than a few weeks to bounce back."

She said nothing.

"And I'm not saying you deserve any of it," she continued, "but, just, please give him a little more time to come around before we jump to conclusions."

"Hard not to jump when you're in the thick of things."

Dominique looked down at her empty, crumb filled plate. She really didn't have a response to that. The complicated ins-and-out of relationships was not familiar territory to her. The only experience she had with a boy was more of a sideshow act than anything to draw any real wisdom from. Sarah was probably better off talking to literally anyone else about these sorts of things; this was especially true when it factored in that her twin brother was the subject of all this animosity.

"He's normal around you," Sarah said, repeating what she'd said earlier. "I wish you could come to the party so I could see how he'd act. Hell, I wish you could go so I'd have someone to talk to when he inevitably decides he doesn't want to."

Dominique sighed. Honour Club parties were 'invite only' and she was not on the guest list. Not that she cared; she'd never had an interest in any of their nonsense like some of the social climbers around here. Other than hearing the food was good, she'd only ever heard how boring their events were. Everything the Honour Club did seemed pompous and fake; an attempt to keep well-to-do and prestigious students close and connected while the rest of them looked on. It seemed very obnoxious on the outside looking in.

"I would go if I could," she said, knowing that it was a safe thing to say since she couldn't. "But I'm not a part of your little club. I'm not invited."

Sarah frowned and returned to solemnly staring at her full plate of food without anything more to say. Dominique went back to her Runes translation, reading the entire message back to herself. T _he monkey eats pie at dusk_. That probably wasn't right.

"Hello," came Jack's voice as he took the seat beside Sarah, helping himself to lunch. "Anyone else happy to have one more class before the holiday starts? I don't think I've ever needed a break so badly in my life."

"I have two classes before I'm done," Sarah mumbled in a far away tone, watching him as he tucked into his own lunch.

"You alright?"

She shrugged, seemingly not interested in dumping all of her worries onto him. "Are you going to the Christmas Party tonight?"

He gave a short laugh.

"Why not?" she asked, her tone taking on a begging quality. "Come on, Jack. It could be fun."

"It could also be awful," he said. "And it probably will be, so—" He took another bite of his sandwich. "Also, Ballycastle plays Chudley tonight and I was planning on listening to that."

"Chudley and Ballycastle seems just as awful," Dominique teased.

He was all too used to her pot shots at his team and rolled his eyes. "We're expected to win."

"Of course you're expected to win. It's bloody Chudley. They haven't been good since before my parents were born. Ballycastle probably won't even play their starters."

"Well, then good," Sarah said to him. "You already know you're going to win, you don't have to listen."

"But I want to listen."

"You can drink at the party."

"That's not going to work this time."

She turned her entire body in her to face him. "Please. I'm asking really nicely."

"Why?"

"Because Louis' being weird and she doesn't want to be alone with him," Dominique said, right as she realized the word monkey in her translation should have read as children. She had been way off.

"It's not…" Sarah shook her head. "Ok, it's something like that. But it's more than him acting weird. He's acting like an entirely different person. You've seen how he's been. It would be nice to just have someone else there."

Sarah's entire demeanor had taken on a desperate sort of quality as she stared at him. Jack stared into his sandwich as if he'd found something particularly interesting inside, attempting to avoid her gaze. He closed his eyes and took a huge breath, and Dominique could practically see his inherent need to be a good person and friend wash over his face. When he opened his eyes, he was looking directly at Dominique—a clear clash of emotions surging through him. Perhaps he was looking for her to say something to help the situation, but she didn't have anything to add. Instead, she grinned at him.

He sighed very loudly.

"It would be the nice thing to do," Dominique said, still grinning. She was starting to find this all rather funny. "Be a good friend."

"Why don't you be a good friend and go?"

"Can't." She shrugged. "Not invited. It's my curse for being unremarkable."

His expression seemed to find that to be a rather convenient excuse. Sarah, however, suddenly looked back at Dominique in an urgent sort of way, as if she'd just figured something out.

"Wait, you can," she said, her tone growing more and more excited. "You absolutely can. I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner."

Dominique's face fell. What was happening? "No, I can't—"

"You can take her," she said, looking back at Jack. "You can invite anyone you want." She looked back at Dominique. "You'd said you'd come if you could. Now you can! Be Jack's date."

Dominique and Jack exchanged looks of shared confusion. What had she just gotten herself roped into? Her seemingly foolproof plan to not have to attend this thing was falling apart. She had to think fast. "But he doesn't want to go." She looked at Jack. "You don't want to go? Ballycastle's playing Chudley, remember?"

"And you said that it was a shit match that they've already won," Sarah argued. "Come on, if you go," she turned toward Jack, "then you'd go, right? I feel like this is a win for everyone."

"How do you figure this is a win for us?" Dominique asked.

Sarah threw her a very particular—almost challenging—look. "Do you want me to say it?"

Dominique immediately knew where Sarah was prepared to take this. She seemed to be under the impression that a forced date with Jack to a shitty party so that they could awkwardly supervise her and Louis was some sort of favor. In reality, Dominique knew she would have been more than happy spending the evening sitting around the common room with him, teasing him about his shitty Quidditch match, without all the other stuff.

Sarah turned to Jack. "If she goes, will you go? Please?"

He turned his gaze onto Dominique. "Would you want to go?"

"I, um," Dominique stammered, feeling unsure of what to say. No, she didn't want to go because it sounded boring. However, even in a forced, made-up sort of way, she did not hate the idea of spending the evening on a quasi-date with him. "Do you want to?"

"I mean, I will if you do."

Sarah's face lit up and she turned that radiating brightness onto Dominique. Great, she would be the bad guy now if she did anything but say yes.

"You said you would if you could," Sarah said. "And I've got you a way in!" She reached out to put an arm around Jack. "And he'll make a really cute date. Look at this face."

He seemed a little embarrassed at the comment and Dominique found her cheeks warming up to the point that she looked away. That Quidditch excuse seemed really good right now, but she'd gone and opened her mouth and blown that wide open. There really seemed to be no way out of this unless she just decided to be a bitch and say no.

"Fine."

"Yes!" Sarah said happily, pulling her arm away from Jack and actually clapping. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you! Perhaps this night won't be so bad after all. You're doing me a real favor. Both of you."

Neither of them said anything, but they both made weak noises of acknowledgement.

"And I promise it won't be that boring," she said as she began to gather her things up. "We always have a good time together."

Again neither of them spoke, though they did catch each other's eyes with the same " _what have we done?"_ expression.

"Ballycastle and Chudley's sounding really good right now, isn't it?" he asked.

Dominique was slowly nodding, just as Sarah stood up and quipped, "You've already agreed. Can't take it back."

"Just leave before you've got me promising more of my time to things I don't want to be doing," Dominique muttered, waving her away.

Sarah laughed and purposely stood behind Jack so he couldn't see her. "If you'd rather talk about something you _want_ to be doing." She pointed directly to him. "We can. Because we all know what's at the top of that list and really, I'm doing you a favor by—"

"Alright," Dominique said in a silencing sort of way. "Let's not forget who needs who tonight."

"And I love and thank you both!" she said. "Nic, I'll see you after my Divination class so I can help you get ready." She made a quick face. "Because you'll have to actually get ready. It's that type of party."

"I'm aware. I hope you know I have nothing to wear."

Sarah ignored her and instead reached down to give Jack a pat on the shoulder. "And you. I know you can clean up well, so...make sure you do that."

He threw her a lazy wave as she grabbed her bag and took off toward her next class with a bounce in her step. In her absence, Dominique let her head thump down on the table. "What have we done?"

"It won't be that bad. You can drink, after all."

She picked her head up. "I feel like this is my fault. I got us both pulled into this."

He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "I was seconds away from agreeing to go anyway because I felt bad. I'm glad you got pulled in." He smiled. "But now you're stuck with me."

"You make that sound like a bad thing," she said, glancing back down at her strange pie eating rune that she still hadn't finished translating. "It was the only reason I agreed."

* * *

"I'm telling you, I don't have anything to wear," Dominique said to Sarah the moment after she'd walked through the portrait hole to find her. Sarah had already been waiting for her—an impressive feat considering the Divination Tower was on the opposite end of the school— and had grabbed her by the arm to pull her up the stairs. She was apparently wasting no time given that the party started in two hours.

"You don't have a single dress?" Sarah asked. "In your entire closet? I know you have some. I've seen you dressed up before."

"Those were Victoire's," Dominique said as they reached their room and Sarah pushed the door open. "I always just borrowed hers if I ever needed something. But since she's gone and taken them with her…"

Sarah immediately walked over to where her own clothes hung in a small wardrobe. She began searching through it, pulling outfit after outfit out and tossing each onto her nearby bed. "See if you can make any of those work."

Dominique hesitated, but ultimately did as she was told and began holding up dresses. She wasn't optimistic about what she was going to find seeing as Sarah and she were very different body types. She was skinny and lean with a small ass, no hips, and breasts on the smaller side of average. Sarah on the other hand had an ass, hips, a great tits that certainly filled out any top she ever wore. Dominique had often joked that Sarah was all curses and turns while she was parallel lines; sharing clothes had never been an option for the two of them. Not that Dominique had ever really wanted to, but even if she had, it never really was something they could have done.

She held up a red dress that would have looked amazing on Sarah, but just glancing at the chest area alone, she knew that she would have to stuff it with every pair of socks she owned to get it to stay up for her. She set it back down and picked up a purple dress, but immediately noticed it was the same.

"Anything?" Sarah asked, having pulled out every dress she'd brought to school with her—about six in total. She was glancing over the pile with a watchful eye, as if attempting to mentally fit one to Dominique.

"Unless you know a good inflation spell for my tits," Dominique said. "And even then, I'm not sure I could carry them off well enough."

"Fuck," Sarah mumbled. "I just assumed you had _something_. What were you planning on doing if you needed to dress up this year?"

"Not go?"

"What about the ball?"

"What ball?"

Sarah made a face. "Aren't you the tournament expert around here? Louis said there's a ball. There's always a ball to celebrate the tournament. Didn't you say your mum went to the one at Hogwarts with Davies' dad?"

Dominique hadn't put the pieces together about that until that moment, but Sarah was absolutely right. There was always a ball, and her mother had gone—in a very small world sort of way—to it with Henry's father. It was tradition, but this tournament was different from the ones in years past. She'd sort of assumed it wasn't happening.

"I'd probably skip that, too."

"You can't skip it if it's in your brother's honor," Sarah said, still searching through her pile of dresses in an attempt to find an appropriate one. "Your whole family will probably turn up. It's a big deal."

"If it's a big deal, then it's safe to say that my mother will have my outfit covered. That's her specialty."

Sarah held up a green dress. "I bet we could take this one in. I never wear it anymore. We'd just need to find someone who's good with sewing spells." She looked at Dominique as if to silently ask for a suggestion as to whom that might be, but all Dominique could do was shrug. She didn't know anything about sewing.

Sarah glanced back at the dress. "Natalie could do it. I've seen her. She tailors all of her own stuff."

That wasn't surprising, and neither was the look Sarah was now giving Dominique. It was clear as day as to what she was now insinuating that Dominique had to do. She obviously wasn't going to be the one to do it.

"I take it, I have to go ask her?"

"That or ask her to borrow some clothes," Sarah offered, setting the dress down. "You two are similarly shaped. You're probably even the same size."

Dominique pulled a horrified face. Natalie's style was more feminine—very pretty, very flowy, very girly. Her dresses were more likely to be covered in lace or sequins or jewel pieces or have gaudy looking tutu pieces. She was known for her pretty pieces and her attention to detail, but as far as Dominique was concerned, her clothes were the thing of her nightmares. She could barely handle dressing up on her terms; she certainly could not handle that on Natalie's level.

"And I'd do it soon," Sarah said. "We don't have a lot of time. While I'm fairly certain she's quick, you never know." She gestured to the chest part of the dress. "There's a lot to take in there."

Dominique begrudged her a grin before muttering, "You know, I'm the one doing you a favor. I don't have to go."

Sarah laughed. "You can pretend you don't want to go all you want, but I saw your face once I got Jack involved. I'd bet you're even excited."

She made a point of letting Sarah see how hard she could roll her eyes, but the fact was she was absolutely right and she was a little excited. She wasn't ready to admit that and instead chose to downplay it.

"You're not fooling anyone," Sarah said. "I've seen the way you two look at each other. No one's even trying to hide it anymore. Eye fucking each other left and right."

"Eye fucking sounds painful."

As she spoke the door to their room opened and, conveniently, in walked Natalie. She glanced over at the pair of them in a cursory sort of way, but went straight to her trunk without a word. Sarah shot Dominique a look before murmuring something about needing to take a shower. She went about collecting her things to take with her down the hall and made sure to shoot Dominique one last urgent glance before exiting the room.

She sighed once Sarah shut the door behind her. Whatever it was that Natalie had come up to grab, she'd found it and was now shutting her trunk to leave. It was now or never.

"Natalie!" she said, though she found herself shouting her name more than she'd have liked to. It actually seemed to startle her, and she straightened up quickly. "Sorry. I just wanted to ask you something. A favor."

Natalie stared at her; the book she'd retrieved from her trunk dangling lazily in her hand. She seemed confused. Dominique was fairly certain that in the seven years they'd known each other, she'd never actually asked her for a favor. She'd asked her for things, sure, but she'd never prefaced it like this. Asking for an outright favor made the request that much more important.

Dominique walked over to Sarah's bed and held up the green dress. She stepped back and brought it closer to give her a better look, though Natalie didn't seem to understand what was happening. "So, I have to go to the Honour Club's Christmas Party tonight. But I don't even own a dress."

Natalie's facial expression twitched in a way that said she wasn't surprised to hear that.

"Anyway, Sarah gave me this one. Said she doesn't want it anymore."

"How nice of her," Natalie said in a bored sort of way, though her eyes were now scanning the garment up and down. "But—"

She looked at her optimistically, hoping she would state the obvious and perhaps suggest to help without her having to ask.

"—that's not going to fit you."

"That is the issue," Dominique said, nodding. "Obviously Sarah and I aren't the same shape. But I remember you were pretty handy with a sewing spell. Don't you tailor your own clothes?"

It then seemed to click for Natalie what she was getting at. She walked over and began running the fabric through her fingers. "You're asking me if I can take it in?"

"Is that even possible?"

"Anything's possible," she said in an oddly confident manner as she continued to examine the dress. "I'd have to use a few tricks on the front here—" she gestured to the chest area—"perhaps some draping because—"

"I don't have large tits. It's not a secret. I get it."

"Nothing wrong with that," she mumbled, now taking the dress from her. "Mine aren't either. No one can really compete with Sarah around here."

Dominique wasn't even sure if that was a dig at Sarah or simply stating a fact, but considering the source she had to assume it was a little of both. She chose to ignore it. "So, can you help me?"

She didn't answer right away. She was still looking over the seams of the dress—inspecting them in a very meticulous fashion. After an awkwardly long minute of silence, she finally said, "This won't be hard." She looked up at Dominique. "Wait? When's the party?"

Dominique plastered an overly saccharine smile on her face. "In about two hours."

Natalie's face fell. She looked as if she'd suspected that was the answer, though she still hadn't wanted to hear it.

"Short notice, I know. I would have asked sooner, but I just found out I was going at lunchtime."

"How do you just make that decision?" she asked. "They announced it weeks ago when—" She stopped and stared at her. "Are you even in the Honour Club?"

"No, I was invited last minute." She let herself make a face. "Very last minute, obviously."

Natalie's interest suddenly piqued in a way that was very much like her. "You were invited? As in, on a date?"

She gaped once or twice, not knowing entirely how to answer that question. It wasn't a proper date after all, but yes, she was going as someone's date. "Sort of."

Natalie was suddenly grinning. Dominique had seen that grin many times before but she was always fleeing from it; never ever wanting to partake in those giggly late night girl talk sessions that the other girls used to have daily back in their earlier years. This time though, there was no fleeing. In fact, if she wanted Natalie's help, she was going to have to play into it at least a little bit. She was going to have to give Natalie what she wanted to hear.

"We'd need to get started now, then." Natalie handed her back the dress. "You're going to have to put that on if you want me to fit you."

"Right," she said as she pulled her uniform off and instead slipped into the dress in question. It was loose in all the ways she had anticipated it would be, and Natalie gave her a quick once over before again going to her trunk to retrieve something. When she returned, she looked to be carrying a small sewing kit and immediately set to work pinning off parts around her bum, her chest, and the general frame.

"So, who asked you?" Natalie asked as she charmed a pin she'd been holding between her lips to insert itself into the dress.

"Oh," Dominique said, feeling caged in as she stood there with no means of escape. "Jack."

Natalie stopped what she was doing and let herself look up. "Did he?"

"He did," Dominique said, fidgeting as she stood there. She could feel some of the pins poking her when she moved. "It's just a friendly thing. I...um...I've never been. And I've heard they're quite the event, so…Yeah."

"I've heard they're really boring, actually."

She hummed. "Oh, have you? I'd heard the opposite."

Natalie returned to charming pins. "I know you said it was a friendly thing, but maybe you should have more of an open mind about it."

"Sorry?"

Natalie's wand cast something that suddenly made the dress tighten around Dominique's waist; she could feel the fabric getting closer to her body. She moved around the side and did the same thing to the back. "Have you ever considered it could be more than a friendly thing?"

 _All the bloody time,_ she thought to herself, though she mumbled, "No." She was happy now that Natalie was behind her and couldn't see the expression she was making.

This was so typical of Natalie to jump to conclusions. But there was no way she could tell her the truth—that he'd only agreed to take her because Sarah had begged them to go. Jack hadn't had plans to ask her otherwise, so it clearly wasn't "more than friends" thing. Unfortunately, she couldn't say that to her without giving up the real reason as to why Sarah wanted her and Jack to tag along, which wasn't any of Natalie's business. Now she'd have to stand her and listen to her dumb theories as to why—

"Because he fancies you," she said, still working on a spot on her back.

Dominique spun around to look at her, which caused Natalie to exclaim sharply and immediately scold her to turn back around. She got the impression she was lucky she hadn't torn the dress entirely.

"What did you say?"

"He fancies you," Natalie repeated once she'd returned to what she'd been doing before being interrupted, "He said it. After that game we were playing the other day-'the kill, marry, fuck' one."

Dominique wanted to turn around and shake her to continue, but she couldn't because that wasn't the type of person she was—especially with Natalie. Instead, she settled on meekly asking, "Why would he have said that?"

"He was talking to Flynn."

"Why would he talk about that with Flynn?"

"Because they're friends?" she offered, stepping back to inspect her work. "And why wouldn't he? Who else is he going to talk to? Not Louis, obviously. Sarah?" She made a face. "If he told Sarah, you and Louis would have both known within the hour. She never could keep a secret."

Dominique was now trying to stand as still as she could, despite feeling as if she could jump out of her skin. She was past the point of caring about how she was supposed to act. She wanted to know everything Natalie had heard. She was fairly certain she'd never needed to hear something more in her life. "Ok, but why did he actually say it? What prompted it?"

Natalie laughed a little, seemingly amused by this entire interaction. If she'd been trying for the two of them to connect on a more personal level over the years, then all of her waiting was finally paying off. She had complete control of this entire conversation; she was at her mercy.

"Because he was telling Flynn off for putting him on the spot during the game," she continued. "You know Flynn was trying to goad him into admitting out loud he has feelings for you, right?"

She said nothing.

"Because he was. But Jack said that hadn't been the time or the place, and that it wasn't Flynn's business. Flynn came back with something about how he was trying to help since Davies was out of the picture, and apparently the last time Jack waited around, Davies figured his way back in."

She felt as if her heart had just fallen into her feet. "I'm sorry, but what?"

Natalie shrugged. "That's what I heard. Jack left after that—went to chase after you since he thought you were upset with him. I asked Flynn what was going on, and all he said was that Jack's been keen on you since that Quidditch camp thing you two did. I guess something happened there? I don't know, but he was under the impression you felt similarly. Then before he could talk to you about it, you were back with Davies."

Dominique took a very large breath. That was August. He'd...since bloody August? What?

"But now you're not with Davies," she continued, "and while Jack apparently feels there's something between you, Flynn also said he's convinced himself he shouldn't do anything about. You know, since there's a huge chance you'll just end up back with Davies again and he'll have put himself out there for nothing."

Dominique was now consciously noticing her breathing. In and out. In and out. Every breath was accounted for, as if they were happening in slow motion. If what Natalie said was true—and why wouldn't it be?—then Jack fancied her. Actually fancied her and felt the same way she did.

And since last summer, which is when she fell for him; the two of them had just been stupidly pretending otherwise. All of those instances where she felt his smile hung on a few extra seconds or that he randomly stuck around in an interaction longer than he needed to weren't her making shit up to appease her own desires. He actually was. He did feel the same way.

"But," Natalie continued, reminding Dominique that she was still standing there, "it seems as if he's had a change of heart if he's asked you out tonight. Looks like he is putting himself out there after all."

As much as she wished that were true, he hadn't actually put himself out there; he was doing this as a favor. This had nothing to do with them and everything to do with Louis and Sarah. She could see how Natalie thought otherwise since her idea of what was occurring made far more sense than what was actually happening; it didn't change the fact that this date wasn't motivated by romantic intentions. She'd dumped Davies two weeks ago and Jack hadn't so much as mentioned or hinted at anything—or maybe he had and she was too thick to see it?

Still, her head was now spinning. Jack fancied her. He felt the same way. Every instance she'd ever questioned him over the last few months, she'd been wrong about. He fancied her. She'd never felt so ridiculously smiley in her entire life.

She needed to get a fucking grip.

Sarah had returned to the room shortly thereafter, her hair wet and a towel wrapped around her body. Natalie was almost done, and Sarah set about drying her hair while attempting to not outright watch as she put on the final touches. Even from across the room, Dominique could tell she was impressed. She was very obviously marveling at her former green dress.

"That's the best I can do," Natalie said later, shrugging as she stepped back to take in one final look. "It's not perfect."

Dominique caught herself in the mirror and let herself turn a few times to get the best look she could. It was good. It was still a touch big, but she preferred it that way. Natalie had managed to bunch up much of the fabric across the chest to create a draped effect and the rest fit her comfortably. It was certainly better than any of the alternatives. She turned to Sarah and twirled around a few times.

"That's...that's remarkable," Sarah said, glancing over at Natalie. "I can't believe that was my dress."

Natalie shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but didn't respond to her. She hung around a few minutes longer to admire her work—even offering to help Dominique with her hair or makeup—which she politely declined. She had no real intention of getting overly dolled up or doing anything to her hair and face that she wasn't capable of doing herself. A little bit of makeup and a few quick waves of the wand through her hair to give it some bounce was really all she wanted to do. Despite her having a lot more invested in this date than she originally thought, she needed to feel comfortable in her own skin. If she got too dressed up, she'd feel stupid.

Sarah got herself ready and double checked everything in the mirror in an oddly antsy fashion. She was nervous about tonight and it showed since she was checking and rechecked things twice and even three times. Dominique couldn't even bother to watch anymore and told her she'd meet her downstairs. It was there she found a handful of people in fancy dress who looked to be headed out.

Her eyes immediately settled on the sofa area where a very nicely put together Jack and Louis were laughing at something that Flynn was saying, his arms waving around wildly in an over the top manner. She couldn't help but notice that Louis was smiling. He seemed to be in a good mood; that was a good sign. He'd been off almost all of his potions for almost two days now and he'd done nothing but rest today. Perhaps he'd snapped out of his funk and was back to his old self. Perhaps Sarah had nothing to worry about and tonight would merely be a regular night where the four of them could have a few laughs and enjoy each other as they always had.

"Look at you," Louis said, noticing her approach before anyone else did. "You're wearing a dress that for the first time in your life mum didn't have to bribe you into it. The sky must be falling."

"Must be," she muttered, feeling self conscious as she let her eyes travel quickly over to Jack. He stood up and caught her eye and smiled in a sweet, but also very reserved sort of way. He seemed purposely subdued, as if he was holding himself back. Now that she knew how he felt, his mannerisms all took on an entirely different meaning.

She smiled back, mirroring the exact same behavior he was. She didn't smile as wide as she wanted to and purposely forced herself to look away and elsewhere in an attempt to show that she cared less than she actually did. It was hard since he looked particularly handsome dressed up in his party garb. He combed his hair differently, she noticed. It was barely a change, but she'd seen the difference immediately. Should she say something about that? It seemed a bit strange to point out.

She blinked and silently scolded herself for being weird. This night hadn't even started yet and she was already doing more mental gymnastics about such stupid shit than she'd ever done in her life.

"You look really lovely," Jack said earnestly.

She'd opened her mouth to say 'thank you' when Louis piped up with, "Better watch out, mate. She hates when people talk about her appearance. Complimenting her when she's all dressed up is the fastest way to get cursed."

"That's not…" she'd begun to say, though it wasn't entirely untrue. She did hate that, but...this was different. She didn't mind it when Jack said it.

"Back when we were younger," he continued. "After my mum got her all dressed up for a wedding or whatever, she used to get so mad when people would tell her, 'You look lovely,' or 'Oh, how pretty' that she would go around trying to find reasons to kick them in the shins all night." He laughed. "Remember that, Nic?"

"Yes…" she muttered.

"That's when Victoire and I realized you almost have to go the opposite way with Nic," Louis said, oblivious to the fact that she was ready to curse him into the ground. "She didn't want to hear the compliments, so we'd come up with anti-compliments. Mine was always, 'You look terrible.'" He smirked at her. "Never got me kicked."

"Never say never," she said, throwing him a look.

"Right, well," he grinned and gave her a once over, "for old times sake, you look terrible."

She felt herself growing warm and had been about to revisit her old kicking days when Jack suddenly told Louis, "Yeah, I'm not going to say that. "I'll take the risk of getting kicked." He looked at her. "You look really nice."

She had no idea what shade of red she possibly could have been at that moment given everything happening, but she mustered a smile and said, "Thanks. You do, too," before looking away, wondering when they could walk and move and do anything other than stand there focusing on her.

"I can't believe you actually want to go to this," Louis muttered after a minute. "Here I am wishing I didn't have to go and you're asking people to take you."

"Asking people to take me?"

Louis nodded toward Jack. "Jack told me that you were on him to take you so you could see what this thing was all about. I'm telling you now, you weren't missing out on anything. It's really boring." He paused. "Food's good, though."

Dominique glanced over at Jack. Was that the story he was telling?

He immediately caught her eye and shrugged a little sheepishly, as if to say sorry. Clearly he was just trying to come up with a cover story for the two of them suddenly attending out of nowhere, but she noticed that it was her who had to be the one asking.

"And there are drinks, which is really the only way to make this tolerable," Louis added, just as Sarah descended the stairs. Louis had apparently noticed as well for his entire demeanor suddenly changed. He grew more rigid and tense—awkward even. He forced a tepid smile as she approached, though he did manage to mumble a quick, "You look nice." She forced a smile in return.

"So, are we going to do this?" Louis asked, though his tone spoke the opposite of what his words said. It was clear that no one wanted to go to this party less than he did. She could sense that all he wanted to do was run and hide, not talk and be the center of attention.

They'd all nodded and made gestures to leave, though it was Louis who turned toward the portrait hole first, ready to lead the way. Sarah dawdled behind and threw both Dominique and Jack a very particular look as if to say, " _See? He's acting strange."_ Dominique couldn't even deny it at this point. She'd physically felt her brother's energy change the second Sarah had walked up to them. He'd almost seemed back to normal in the few moments she'd had with him before Sarah had turned up.

"I should have worn trainers," Jack said as they exited the portrait hole, and it was then that Dominique noticed he was staring at hers. Despite Sarah's protest that Dominique should wear more appropriate shoes, she'd instead decided upon her low top, black trainers—and hadn't regretted it for a moment. "I didn't even know that was an option."

"It probably isn't," she said. "But when has that ever stopped me? It's probably why I don't get invited to these parties on my own." She paused to muse on that thought. "Well, that and average marks and lack of any real achievements to merit being in the Honour Club."

He laughed a little as the two of them trailed just barely behind an otherwise silent Louis and Sarah. "You make it work."

He'd then thrown her that sweet smile from earlier. She smiled back in a similar way and their eyes locked for those few extra seconds that made it all seem more obvious than ever now. How had she been so stupid not to see it?

"Hey, Jack," Louis said as he stopped and doubled back to walk beside him and engage him in a conversation about food from the party in the previous year. It randomly led Louis to launch into the most random conversation about fish and seafood for the remainder of their walk downstairs, which seemed oddly out of place. Dominique was more than used to him going off on tangents full of useless information, but there was usually a time and a place for it. This didn't seem like that time. No one else was contributing to the conversation, and halfway through Dominique sped up her pace to walk beside where Louis had left Sarah.

Once they were side by side, she threw Sarah a quick glance. She didn't return it, but she didn't have to. Her annoyance and aggravation was written all over her features. Dominique had thought she'd been overreacting to Louis' behavior around her, but this was weird and completely unlike him. He'd always been the perfectly doting boyfriend who picked up on even the slightest shift in Sarah's mood. Now, not only was he causing the shift, but he didn't seem to care.


	16. The Christmas Party

They reached the room where the Honour Club's Christmas party was being held, which was beautifully decorated for the holidays. Lots of Christmas colored ribbons and drapery criss-crossed the ceiling. There was holly and lush seasonal greenery hung sporadically around the room while large, elaborately decorated pine trees posted themselves in the four corners. There were a handful of tables, but they were tall and chairless, as if one were supposed to stop and chat around them, but not dwell there. A string quartet played music in one corner while people in white serving robes walked around with trays of food. It was actually far more fancy than Dominique had assumed it would be.

"And this is it," Louis said to her as they passed through the door. "Live up to your expectations?"

She shrugged, not sure what to think one way or the other quite yet. There were people milling about—professors and students alike, as well as a few faces Dominique had never seen before—all off in their own little groups enjoying their conversations.

While she didn't know exactly who was in the club, it was generally fairly easy to figure out. Top students—like her brother, Sarah, Lira Chin, Ansel Baileymoore, and the prefect types. Presidents of various prestigious clubs, like Mike Ellison who—as head of the Potions Club—had just won a Ministry sponsored prize for some sort of new elixir he'd created. Quidditch captains, like Jack, Erin Tanner, even Griffin Giggleswick—though Dominique didn't see that last one in attendance. She could only hope he'd chosen to skip the festivities altogether.

"Mr. Weasley!" came the voice of Professor Ivanson, who had approached Louis immediately and with a very strange smile. Or perhaps it was that Dominique had never actually seen Ivanson smile before. He'd always been so curt and strict in the years she'd known him that seeing his lips actually take the form of one was actually startling.

Louis smiled, though it was clearly forced and not at all his best effort to charm. "Professor."

"I'm happy you've arrived," he continued. "I've actually been waiting for you. I have a few people I'd love for you to meet."

"I…" He hesitated. Dominique wanted to answer for him. To say that he'd barely crossed the bloody threshold and could he possibly get a minute to breathe? But Louis was already forcing his terse smile tighter as he nodded. "Oh, really?"

"They're some very important people from the Ministry—the Minister of Magic's office specifically—and they've all been waiting to talk to you. Everyone's completely fascinated to hear about your challenges at Durmstrang." Ivanson turned his smile onto Sarah. "And please, Miss Kirke, join us. I'm not looking to tear your date away for the evening, I assure you."

Sarah's smile matched Louis'. Dominique wasn't entirely sure if she'd been hoping Ivanson would steal Louis away or not. Either way, she had now been roped into it and she was politely nodding. Ivanson led the way with a hand gesture, to which Louis followed immediately without so much as a look at his girlfriend. He didn't stop to make sure she was following, or share a mutual look of annoyance, or grab her hand to tug her along, or even put his hand on her back to lead her away—all of which he'd usually do. He'd just walked off without a glance.

Sarah managed to throw Dominique a helpless sort of look before she stepped forward to follow in Louis' wake. Their absence now left Dominique and Jack on their own.

"Well, then," Jack mumbled. "That was…"

"What the fuck was that?"

"I have no idea. He's—"

"He's being weird," Dominique said, having all but lost sight of Louis, but assuming he disappeared into the crowd of well-dressed robes near the bar area. "He's completely ignoring her. I don't think I've heard him say more than three or four words to her."

"I noticed that, too," Jack said, looking in the direction they'd disappeared off in. "You know, I thought she was just exaggerating when she said he was being that bad. I mean, he had a few strange days at first—"

"After what he'd been through, that was to be expected."

"Right," Jack continued. "I thought he was back to normal again. He's seemed himself lately. I sort of thought Sarah was just being harsh until that."

She nodded. "Something about her is making him act strange." She paused for a long moment, as a thought crept into her head that she really didn't want to have. "If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think…" She trailed off, she didn't want to say it. She didn't want to put it out in the universe, but his behavior—the aloofness, the coldness, the ignoring her—it almost seemed as if—

"That he's thinking about breaking up with her?"

Dominique's eyes shot to him. "Has he said something to you?"

He immediately shook his head. "No. Nothing. Not even a hint of anything like that. And he's always told me ahead of time when he was planning to end something."

She took a deep breath. He was right about that. She'd always known beforehand as well. Louis would always mention it before actually doing it, so it was never a surprise when one of his relationships was ending. In fact, the only time she'd been taken by surprise by any of them was when Natalie had broken up with him. It had been the only time he'd ever been dumped, and it had been by Natalie of all people.

"But why would he want to break up with her?" Dominique asked.

"I'm telling you, he'd say something if he wanted to," Jack reaffirmed. "I know Louis. You know Louis. Once he makes up his mind about something like that, he'd mention it to one of us."

"But in this case, the girl is one of our best friends," she said. "Someone we spend all of our time with. We never cared about the others so it was easy for him to tell us. If they break up, everything changes."

Jack had nothing to say to that. He just sighed very heavily.

"Fuck," Dominique mumbled more to herself than to him. They both stood there for a long moment until they found themselves looking at each other. Unlike earlier, this wasn't a sweet moment of shared glances. This time, they were both exchanging looks of frustration and confusion.

"I need a drink," he finally said. "You want something to drink?"

"Absolutely." She started searching the room for where they might obtain said drinks, but she wasn't entirely unsure of where to go or what to do. The party was in full swing now and more people had arrived to crowd the space as Jack gestured toward the bar area. Servers were walking around with trays of food and Dominique reached out to the first one she passed—some sort of sausage hor de vour. It tasted minty when she ate it and she immediately hated it.

"I'll go grab us something," Jack offered. "I'm fairly certain it's just mead and ale. Do you care which?"

"Whatever you're having," she muttered, still trying to get the gross minty taste out of her mouth.

The second Jack had stepped away, she found the first cocktail napkin she could and immediately made to wipe what taste was left out of her mouth. She had just finished up when she felt the sudden presence of people closing in on her; when she turned to look, Erin Tanner was taking her in curiously.

"Look who it is."

Dominique forced a tepid smile, noting that behind Erin, Zara and Reggie Avery—who were hand in hand—had suddenly appeared. She was pitiful at small talk and unless they were about to have a chat about Quidditch, she couldn't possibly think of anything else to talk to them about. She settled her focus on Zara and decided to try her best.

"I'd have expected you to be the star of the party," she said, noticing that Zara—as usual—was impeccably dressed and put together. "Louis didn't even finish the task and he's over being held hostage in conversation by a bunch of Ministry types."

Zara rolled her eyes. "I did my time for the last half an hour," she said, sounding a bit tipsy. "Talked to a load of people who were all as boring and dull as the last one. And they all wanted to have the same bloody conversation about the tournament. I actually have Louis to thank for finally turning up because they now all want to talk to him. It let me tear myself away." She raised her glass up as if silently cheering.

"Let me guess," Erin said, holding a glass of mead in her hand and staring at Dominique as if she were trying to examine her. "You got invited to join the Honour Club because you've become a little media darling thanks to your brother's newfound fame?"

"Sorry?"

"My brother's gotten himself a little fan club as well," Zara said. "As soon as they started putting his name and picture in the papers, people started writing to him. He doesn't understand it. I bet Victoire gets mail now too, doesn't she?"

"This club will invite anyone with a shred of popularity or fame," Erin muttered, though she quickly looked at Dominique. "And I'm not slagging on you, I swear. I'm just annoyed that this seems to have less to do with honor and achievement, and more to do with who your parents are, or if you've got the potential to be famous or successful one day. It's a joke."

"It's always been like that, though," Reggie said. "My dad said they have a version of it like this in his day, only they called it the Slug Club."

"My dad told me that as well," Zara said. "He was in it."

"That's the stupidest name I've ever heard," Erin continued, swigging from her glass. "Who would want to be in a Slug Club?"

"I think it was the Professor's name," Zara mused. "The one who started it."

"Professor Slug? How unfortunate."

All three of them started laughing, though Dominique still wasn't entirely sure why they'd stopped to talk to her or even what exactly they were talking about.

"Well, welcome to the club," Erin said, holding up her glass to toast Dominique. "At least there's alcohol."

Dominique discarded her napkin on a nearby dirty plate before turning back to the three of them. "I didn't get invited to join the club. I suppose I haven't ridden my brother's coattails quite that far yet. I was just invited to the party. I'm here with someone."

Both Erin and Reggie gave the area a quick look around, though it was Reggie who asked, "Who's that, then?

"It had better be who I'm thinking," Zara said, pointing directly at Dominique in a very one-glass-of-mead-too-many sort of way. "Because I'm rooting for the two of you and it's been ages already. What's taking so long?"

Erin was now laughing, though Reggie seemed confused. Lucky for him, in that exact moment he got his answer as Jack returned from the bar and handed Dominique a drink. He smiled politely at the Slytherin group, which made both Zara and Erin shout out in pleasant surprise.

"Finally!" Erin practically yelled. "About bloody time!"

Jack's expression was confused and he immediately looked at Dominique. "I wasn't gone that long."

"Ignore them," she said, grabbing his arm to pull him away to talk to anyone else at this party.

"That's adorable!" Zara called after them as Dominique led him away.

They found themselves walking the room a few times, stopping to chat on occasion with other random people they came across. Jack stopped to make idle chit-chat with people about how they'd all gotten suckered into attending tonight. A bored Ellibit had cornered them for a few minutes since Michael was currently chatting with people who were keen to talk about his Potions potential. Dominique stumbled upon James, who, as a fourth-year, was finally allowed to attend for the first time that year. He seemed tremendously underwhelmed by the experience and had chosen to stand off in a corner with some other fourth-year girl he seemed to know.

At one point, after she and Jack had snacked on some of the available food, Longbottom had approached them to introduce a man who seemed especially keen on chatting with Jack. She vaguely recognized him once he introduced himself as a senior scouting representative for the British and Irish Quidditch Association; she assumed she must have met him at the Trials or somewhere similar. That was until he, himself, informed her of their last encounter.

"I'd arrived early for your match against Ravenclaw," said the man, who was called Calvin, after he'd just explained at length about his responsibilities and how he'd heard about the both of them—particularly Jack. "I spoke briefly to you," he nodded to Dominique, "before you entered the arena, but you seemed to be in a bit of a hurry. Rather agitated."

She let her eyes grow a little wide. Oh, fuck. He was one of people who'd been outside of the arena when she'd been running from reporters and dealing with Davies' presence. She'd assumed he was another one of them.

Calvin was smiling rather awkwardly. "I'd been hoping to speak to you, but you told me to 'piss off'."

Dominique immediately felt mortified, and it took a lot for her to have that kind of reaction. "I'm so sorry, I was being harassed. I had no idea…"

"That was a bad day for all of us," Jack interjected. "Her brother," he pointed in the general direction of where Louis probably was, "was still missing, which I'm sure you heard about. She had reporters hounding her. Obviously, she was in a right state."

Calvin was nodding. "Yes, of course. Shame that had to be our first encounter or my first impression."

Dominique felt herself frowning. Terrific. She was rude to him upon speaking to him, and her performance that day had probably been one of the worst of her career. He had to have assumed she was an awful person and an awful Quidditch player. That was quite possibly the worst scenario that could have played out for her in front of someone who had the power to shape her entire future.

Calvin seemed far more interested in discussing Jack's stats and plans, which immediately reminded her of their days at the Trials. She stood and sipped her drink quietly as Jack fielded several questions, but once her glass emptied, she excused herself away to fetch something else.

She grabbed a glass of mead and stood people-watching the room. She'd lost track of Louis and Sarah, everyone around her was either rubbing elbows with Ministry types or other important people; Jack was making connections with people who would probably lead him toward a career playing Quidditch instead of dreaming about it as she did. It suddenly felt rather lonely here on this side of the room, though the absence of someone to talk to was only part of it.

She couldn't figure out why she kept fucking up her Quidditch potential. The Trials hadn't turned out at all how she wanted; she'd lost out to James to be the Seeker—and had gotten a lucky break in keeping her spot on the team; she'd been rude to scouts; and even in the matches she'd played, her wins had been rather unimpressive and her loss had been awful. Granted, that loss wasn't entirely on her, but it didn't change that she was not where she thought she'd be as a seventh-year seasoned Quidditch player. She'd assumed she'd have been, like Jack, talking to people who wanted to help elevate her to the next level; not standing idly by while her teammate got all the attention and she felt foolish for consistently making poor decisions. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

She wandered back over to where Jack and Calvin looked to be wrapping up their chat in a good-natured and jovial sort of way. Jack noticed her join them and, while he didn't cease his conversation, he did acknowledge her presence in a way she hadn't expected. In a casual gesture—almost as if he wasn't even thinking about it—he reached down and took her hand in his. There was no pomp and circumstance or even a glance; he'd simply done it while in the middle of explaining about how he felt his ambidextrous abilities gave him an edge he felt most Beaters didn't have.

"I do hope to make it out again to one of your matches next term," Calvin was saying to him, while Dominique found herself both fixated by how warm Jack's hand felt in hers, but also with how Calvin was now smiling politely at her. "I work more closely with defensive positions, Keepers and Beaters, while my counterpart works more with offense. Ultimately we do touch on everything. Both of us will be here at some point next term, but you can expect our staff, as well as representatives from specific teams, to be present every match from here on out." He looked back at Jack. "Your stats have been impressive, young man. I can only advise you to keep it up because people are talking."

"I will," Jack said, looking happy with this way this conversation had panned out as Calvin started to excuse himself. He extended his hand out to shake Jack's, causing Jack to drop hers. He then went to shake Dominique's.

"Keep working hard," he added to her, though it sounded more polite than constructive. Once he'd gone, she noticed Jack looked rather pleased with himself.

"Well, he was keen on you," she said.

He shrugged. "That was exactly what it was like at the Trials in all of my endless meetings. I feel like an expert at them now."

She sighed, wanting to mention how she wished she knew what it felt like. She wasn't in the mood for a pity party at the moment, or to relive how it was her own undoing that was causing her to be in the position she was currently in. She either had to fix it on her own or stop complaining.

"You heard him," Jack said. "He was a defensive guy. Seekers aren't his thing."

She smiled a little at him. She knew what he was doing and she found it nice of him to try.

Jack wanted something else to drink, so while they went to the bar area to grab him something, she found herself surprised to find her brother up there holding court with a bunch of random friends. They were all students, no one in an official capacity or anyone with Ministry ties. He was smiling and laughing with Zara and her friends, as well as several others. They all looked to be having quite the conversation, though Sarah was nowhere to be seen.

While Jack grabbed a drink, Dominique scanned the rest of the room. Sarah couldn't be found at first glance; there was no trace of a maroon dress she'd worn. She continued to look, thinking that perhaps she was being obscured by one of the taller blokes, but she couldn't seem to spot her. Had she left?

"Over there," Jack said, nudging her once he'd returned. When she turned to look, he was pointing across the room—across the small dance floor that had suddenly sprung up from somewhere and contained four people currently dancing to the string quartet. On its other side, Sarah stood alone, leaning against one of the tall tables in a mindless sort of daze.

Dominique heaved a sigh before taking off across the room, sensing Jack in tow. Sarah didn't even seem to realize they were coming until they were directly in front of her. Dominique had managed to set her drink down on the table before Sarah even bothered to look at her.

"Hey," Sarah said quietly, her eyes on Dominique's glass. "I feel like I really need to go and get one of those."

"Take it," Dominique offered, just as Jack said that he'd go and get her one if she wanted. When Sarah didn't answer, Dominique slid her glass across the table toward her. It took her a moment, but she finally picked it up and drained it immediately. Had the situation not seemed so somber, it would have actually been impressive.

Jack reached over to give Sarah's arm a quick squeeze. "I'll grab you another one." He set his own glass down to free up his hands, but Sarah simply reached out and started drinking it.

"Unless you just want to take mine," he added, which made both he and Dominique stare a little blankly.

Jack left to get more, only for her to watch as Sarah consumed Jack's drink—this one a bit slower—before she started to open up once the alcohol got her going. It was more of the same; that Louis was now essentially a different person, she didn't even recognize him, she wasn't sure what had happened. He was being paraded around from Ministry official to Ministry official, and while that wasn't anything out of the ordinary, the fact that he barely acknowledged her presence was.

"He's always insisted on introducing me when he's caught up in that sort of thing," she'd said once Jack returned and she finished her drink. "You know, he's very by the book. Well-mannered and all that. But it was like I wasn't even there. Ivanson introduced me once when I initially walked up, but then it was like I was wallpaper. I left. I walked over here and he hasn't even noticed."

Dominique glanced over her shoulder, where Louis was still at the bar area. "I don't know what's happening."

"See, I'm not mental," Sarah said. "You both thought I was when I said he was fine around you, but around me..." She frowned.

"Something's off," Jack agreed. "But it's not as if he's said anything. If he's got something on his mind, he hadn't mentioned it."

"What would he mention?" Sarah asked, now squinting at Jack.

"I don't…" He shrugged. "Whatever he's thinking."

"This bloody tournament has turned him into another person," she mumbled. "Do you know he's been home for almost a week and I can count the number of times he's kissed me on one hand?"

"You've mentioned that," Dominique said, feeling awkward being in the middle of this. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be. Louis and Sarah were supposed to be annoyingly happy and in love; Dominique shouldn't have to be here having this conversation in a party dress surrounded by a bunch of knobs in dress robes. She should be in the common room, in her comfy socks, reading the newest Quidditch Weekly, and not worrying about why her friend and her brother were falling out.

"I don't know what I've done." Sarah said.

"Stop blaming yourself when he's the one acting like a prat," Dominique said, noticing Jack shift from beside her and suddenly walk off toward the bar without a word. She turned to watch, noticing that he'd walked right up to her brother.

Dominique turned back to Sarah, who was also staring directly at them. Her expression was a mixture of disappointment and anger as her eyes very clearly narrowed on Louis.

"If I were you, I'd punch him," Dominique offered. "But that's what I do when he pisses me off. It may not work for everyone."

"I haven't ruled it out," Sarah said through gritted teeth as Dominique turned back to observe Jack and Louis' very involved in a conversation. It had taken a few minutes, but Jack eventually turned back around, and Louis—begrudgingly, and after draining his glass from top to bottom and reaching out to grab another—turned to follow him. They were coming back over here. She suddenly felt something drop into the pit of her stomach.

"Hey," Jack said as he returned, having brought back another pair of drinks and setting one down for Sarah. "Thought you might need this."

"Thanks, Jack," said Sarah as her eyes never left Louis. "So, _very_ kind of you. Good to know I can count on _someone_ around here."

Jack's awkward gaze drifted to Dominique, and she couldn't help but grimace. Sarah didn't even seem to notice as she continued to stare at Louis; he, in turn, gulped down half his glass before finally looking back at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what you think it means," Sarah said as Jack slid out from his spot between the two of them and went around the table to where Dominique stood. Probably a good move to not get caught in the crossfire.

"If I knew what it meant, I wouldn't have asked you," Louis said, sounding condescending.

"It means you're being a prat," Sarah said bluntly. "A real fucking prat. And you have been since you've gotten back."

"I almost died, Sarah."

"I'm starting to believe a part of you did die out there," she snapped back. "Because I have no idea who you even are lately."

"I'm so sorry I'm not rainbows and fucking sunshine. I'm dealing with some shit."

"You seem to be perfectly fine being rainbows and sunshine with everyone else! Just now over there at the bar, laughing and chatting." She looked over at Dominique and Jack. "I've seen you with both of these two and you seem fine. Nic, am I wrong?"

"I...I mean, I don't know if I'd say rainbows…"

"I'm the only one you're being cold to," Sarah said. "And I don't know what I did, Louis. I wish you'd tell me."

"You didn't do anything."

"Then what is happening?!" she asked. "Because I'd love to know. Do you want to split up? Because if so, you need to just come out and say it."

Louis sighed, but said nothing. Dominique began to feel as if she really needed to excuse herself from this conversation. She couldn't watch this anymore.

She looked at Jack, who looked back at her in the exact same way. He set his glass down on the table. "Do you maybe…?" He gestured to the dance floor. "Want to go...over...there?" He held her gaze as if he was trying very hard to get her to read his mind. "Or, go over _anywhere_ else?"

She nodded before she'd even really registered the question. He could have asked her to the moon and she would have gone to escape the awkwardness of this back and forth.

She turned and walked away from the table and could immediately feel Jack on her heels. They'd both randomly walked to the dance floor, which was now surprisingly covered with people, and only then did she stop and realize what was supposed to happen next. Were they actually going to dance? Had she agreed to that? She hadn't mentally prepared herself for that and was now being forced to switch gears from one awkward scenario to another.

"I couldn't listen to them," Jack said once they'd gotten away.

"I couldn't either," she said, feeling anxious for several reasons now—number one being that she'd never properly danced with anyone before. She'd skipped every single dance at school up until this point and avoided doing it at all weddings or events she'd attended. The last time she'd danced with anyone, it had been Louis and they'd been toddlers at one of their many family weddings. She'd certainly never done it with a boy who she wasn't related to; definitely never with someone she had feelings for. She couldn't even remember where her hands were supposed to go.

She glanced around the dance floor. Everyone was dancing differently. Professor Longbottom and his wife were dancing as if they were in some fancy ballroom. He was leading her around in a very proud and formal sort of way, even stopping to dip her. Near them, Zara and Reggie were practically on top of each other, with her arms wrapped around his neck and his arms wrapped so tightly around her waist that there wasn't any space to spare between them. Mike and Ellibit, who'd been together for years now, looked more comfortable with her elbows casually on his shoulders and his hands on her lower back as they chatted and laughed about something. None of this gave her any insight as to where she stood and what she should do.

"You alright?" Jack asked. He was staring at her, so she must have been making a face. "We don't have to actually dance. I just thought it was an easy out—"

"No, it's fine," she said a little too quickly. "I can dance. Absolutely. No problem."

His expression was a little curious, but he reacted by casually—he obviously knew what he was doing—reaching out for her waist. She automatically reached for his shoulders and, seeing as he didn't react as if that was strange, she felt as if she'd made the appropriate move.

"You sure you're alright?"

She stood up straighter and attempted to appear nonchalant. "Yes. Why do you keep asking that?"

"Because you're sort of tense."

She laughed a little, though it was a nervous reaction more than finding anything genuinely funny. She tried to let her body relax. "I'm still thinking about Louis and Sarah."

He nodded and let his eyes travel over to where they'd left them. "If they survive the night, I'll be shocked."

She glanced over her shoulder, seeing that they looked as if they were still snipping back and forth. This could not be happening. Yes, she'd fought them at the start of their relationship and did her best to hate them both for making it happen, but that was a year ago. Everything had changed. The two of them were a package. She couldn't even imagine how things would work if Louis and Sarah weren't together.

She turned back to Jack. She couldn't think about them right now. She had other things that needed her attention. "Ok, I'm not going to lie. I've never…" She hesitated. "I've never actually done this before."

"Never done what?"

"This," she said, gesturing between the two of them. "Danced. With someone. I'm a bit of a fish out of water."

Jack's face went through multiple reactions in the span of about five seconds. She could pick out surprise, then shock, then confusion before it finally landed somewhere in the area of disbelief. "But…?"

"How?" she asked, finishing his sentence for him. "I don't know if you recall—" and she smiled in a sarcastic way, "—but I wasn't much into the whole dancing, boys, dating, hair brushing thing until very recently. And even after I decided I didn't hate all that stuff anymore, I haven't exactly stumbled into a lot of opportunities to experience much of it."

"Huh," he said rather bluntly, seemingly absorbing this new fact, but remaining confused nonetheless. "And you and Davies never—?"

She made a face. "Please. Doing something like this would have meant we'd have to enjoy each other's company." She shrugged, "You're my first proper dance, I suppose."

He let himself fake a feeling of importance at that, as if he was now suddenly amused by the random title he'd been bestowed. She rolled her eyes, but still found herself smiling at him. She didn't hate that it was him.

"So, you better teach me something useful," she added in an attempt to save face now that she felt rather naive. "Otherwise, what good are you?"

"Useful," he repeated, glancing around the dance floor as if he were pondering that request. "I'm not going to claim to be a great dancer, but what I do know is that this—" he nodded down to the empty space between the two of them, "—was how I danced with girls when I was twelve."

"And that's a bad thing...because?"

"Because we're not twelve," he said. "I don't think either of us is afraid of the opposite sex anymore, let alone each other, so we don't need to leave enough room to fit a Quidditch arena between the two of us."

She gaped a little at that, though now that he pointed it out, it did seem like a lot of space in between the two of them. Especially once she looked around to see even the most boring looking pairs out there standing closer together.

"I actually think our beds were closer together when we shared a room at the Trials," he added.

"Shut it," she said, stepping back from him in order to resolve the situation. "Then what's the appropriate amount? Because I look around here and—-" She gestured over to where Zara and Reggie were dancing nearby, now practically snogging each other's faces off. She threw Jack a look as if to say, " _That can't be right?"_

"Yeah, that's for people who are obviously going to smash by the end of the night," Jack whispered as he stepped forward to fill the gap between them. "There are levels of closeness depending on who you're dancing with."

He sounded official, which made her laugh. It was as if he'd read a book on the subject and was referencing some scholar. "I'm listening."

"What we were just doing," he continued. "That's entry level. You do that when you don't know what you're doing—"

"Which I don't."

"—and you're finally getting to touch someone for the first time ever."

"Oh, well, that part I'm well past."

"Come on, then," he said as he reached out and grabbed her by the waist, taking her a bit by surprise. He's pulled her in about half the distance that they'd been standing before, leaving a small, but ultimately comfortable amount of room between them. She again instinctively raised her arms up and placed her hands on his shoulders; this time, she let them relax from the get go.

"This is where you'd go if you're comfortable with someone. You could dance with a friend like this." He paused and looked her in the eyes. "Which, that's what we are, so we would—"

"Right," she said, nodding quickly. "Makes sense."

"Yeah," he said, now looking away. She did the same as her eyes once again landing on Zara and Reggie and their very involved snogging. Jack followed her gaze and added, "And, as you can see, it gets heavier," he stopped when they both witnessed Reggie grabbing Zara's arse and giving it a healthy squeeze, "—the closer you get."

"Where exactly does the arse groping fit on your levels?"

"I'd say it's somewhere near the top," he joked, grinning at her before they both stopped to watch Longbottom pause his fancy dancing to come over and scold both Zara and Reggie for getting too handsy out there. The phrase, "prefect" and "champion" were the only words Dominique really could make out, but the pair did begrudgingly put some distance between them.

She laughed, which she gradually let taper off into a smile that seemed to want to stay on her face. Yes, that entire scene had been amusing, but for the first time since she'd arrived earlier, she'd actually stopped to enjoy the moment. Given Louis and Sarah's drama and just the overall busyness of the evening, she'd forgotten to let herself enjoy that she was ultimately on a date with Jack. He literally had his hands on her waist at that very moment and was standing inches away. His face was even close enough that she observed he had a couple of freckles on his nose that she'd never noticed before and specks of green in his eyes that she'd never paid attention to.

Their closeness was both intoxicating and confusing, seeing as she still couldn't tell what was happening here. If he actually fancied her, he did a good job of keeping her guessing. He would hold her hand and throw her that adorable smile one minute, but then the next he seemed as normal and friend-like as he always was. Almost everything he did could potentially be explained away by the fact that he was a lovely and polite person. His little dance chat had even been more educational than it had been flirty—and if there was ever a chance to flirt with someone, it was when you had them as close as they currently were.

But she had to remember what Natalie had said; that he was trying to squash his feelings and ignore things for fear of her running back to Davies. That would explain a lot of his behavior and why he wasn't bothering. It was up to her to make a move and see how he responded. His reaction would be the ultimate test as to whether or not she pushed on. It was time to heed her own advice: if she was ever going to flirt with him, do it when she already had him this close.

"This whole party really isn't as bad as you all made it out to be," she said. "Minus the Louis and Sarah stuff, it hasn't been so bad."

"Speaking of them," Jack said, nodding across the room. "They look like they're having a full on row now."

Dominique turned to look, where sure enough, both Louis and Sarah's faces were charged with angry energy. Sarah was speaking very clipped, blunt words while Louis shook his head. She turned away again; both curious as to what was being said but also not wanting to watch. "I can't."

"Yeah," he muttered. "They have to…" He shrugged as the song started to end, but another one began to kick right back up. "Did you want to keep going?"

"If you do." She took a very small step forward, letting her arms stretch out a bit on his shoulders and slightly closing the gap between them. "I'm starting to get the hang of things."

He smiled and didn't flinch at the change of boundaries. He either hadn't noticed or was perfectly happy with the change. She hoped it was the latter.

"So," Dominique said, letting the word hang there for a moment in the hopes that something worth saying would pop into her head. She was so bad at idle chit chat and she was even worse when it came to flirty chat. What was she even supposed to say? Nice hair? Cold weather we've been having? Want to talk some more about our friends' relationship dissolving behind us at this very moment? Absolutely none of those topics would take her where she wanted to go.

"So," Jack mumbled, "I heard Ballycastle's winning.

She felt a tiny smile grow on her face. When in doubt, Quidditch. She could do Quidditch. She could absolutely work with Quidditch.

"Yeah, there's no Snitch yet," he continued. "But the score's something like 500-50."

"Good of Chudley to put up fifty," Dominique said, feeling genuinely surprised to hear that. "They must have been practicing."

"We've got Puddlemere again in two weeks," he said, referencing the number one team in the league. A team that had already beaten his beloved Bats once this season. "I really think we'll get them this time. I just have a feeling."

"You didn't learn your lesson a few weeks ago?" she asked, "Puddlemere takes no prisoners. They certainly didn't last time you played them."

"We almost beat them!" he said, his face lighting up. "If you remember, we caught the Snitch!"

"Yeah, well maybe your Chasers need to learn to score quicker on the jump off because almost beating them means nothing. And they're going to do it again next week because Ballycastle keeps making the same mistakes and they never learn because your coaching staff is a bloody joke—"

"We have a five and two record! Six and two after tonight!"

She smirked. "Holyhead is seven and one."

"Holyhead plays no one until the semis," Jack reiterated in a very fired up sort of way. It was his most favorite talking point in the world when it came to her Harpies. "Of course they're seven and one when they spend their season playing Chudley and Appleby. Ballycastle has a much harder schedule and if we didn't have to constantly play Puddlemere—"

"Always the same excuse," she said, rather enjoying this banter. She'd always enjoyed it with him, though she had to admit that she enjoyed it a lot more when they were this close. "The way you make me defend them, you're going to turn me into a Puddlemere fan soon enough."

"You cannot—" He shook his head and, whether or not it was on purpose or accident, he'd let his hands relax a bit and drop every so slightly on her waist, "You'll be dead to me if you start supporting Puddlemere."

"Shame I didn't know that until now, I could have been rid of you ages ago," she joked, laughing as she said it. He was smiling as well and she couldn't help but notice how much they were smiling at each other tonight. For fuck's sake, it was almost obnoxious. But she didn't even care. She couldn't stop if she wanted to. He made her smile.

"No one's forcing you to dance with me if you want to get rid of me so badly," he said in a playful and—dare she even say it—flirty way.

"No, no one is," she said, nodding as if she agreed but slowly letting her expression get more serious. "I'm doing this because I want to."

"I want to, too," he said, his voice taking on a quieter tone as he immediately fed off the change in the mood. It had flipped from funny and light, to intense and charged in the blink of an eye—just as it had that night in his room. "I'm glad we decided to do this." He looked around. "The whole night."

"I am, too," she said, feeling ridiculously bold all of the sudden. She looked him in his eye and decided to just address this. Ask him if what she'd heard was true; put herself out there. The whole bloody school knew, he might as well too. "I've been meaning to ask you something."

He stared right back at her, as if waiting rather attentively for her to continue. She found her heart racing at a million beats per minute—at least that's what it felt like. She suddenly didn't know if she should go through with it. Louis and Sarah were falling apart and what if she said something to Jack and it didn't go over well? How much drama could their little group sustain before it completely collapsed? Why was she attempting to rock the boat? Their boat was great where it was. The boat was happily sailing along.

He was still staring at her. The song was winding down, which made things feel even more rushed. She could feel her heart in her ears. She had to say something now. The build up was too great at this point. "Um."

Jack's eyes flicked away as if something had suddenly caught his attention. She immediately turned to look as well and just managed to catch the sight of a maroon dress rushing through the exit in a hurry.

"Sarah just stormed out," he said. "She looked upset."

Dominique dropped her arms and turned. Her eyes went straight to Louis. He was—surprisingly—following after her, though he grabbed an unattended bottle of mead on his way out and took it with him.

"Did he just take that bottle?"

"Are you sure she was upset?" Dominique asked as she began speed walking toward the exit herself. "Maybe the two of them worked things out and they're off to—"

"No, she looked really torn up," Jack said, following after her. "I saw Louis say something and she swung around and marched out."

They exited the party and walked out into the corridor, just in time to catch some shouting coming from the left. It was a female and she was clearly angrily yelling. Dominique began heading straight for it, though she felt Jack tug on her arm to slow her down.

"What are you planning on doing?"

"I'm going to see—"

"It's none of our business."

She made a face. "Of course it's our business. He's my brother and she's my friend. They're your friends."

"And it's their relationship," he said, "which we have nothing to do with. Us showing up is going to help. If anything it's going to make things weird. If they're splitting up, nothing we can do is going to stop them."

She pulled away from him and began walking in the direction of the shouting—which had since grown far quieter. "We'll see about that."

Jack's sigh was purposely loud, but she noticed he'd still followed after her as she rounded the corner to find an empty corridor. She continued to walk forward, glancing past the suits of armor and tapestries that lined the halls for any signs of life. They were in the Charms wing of the castle now, which was closed to students after hours. Every door was shut and silent as she passed and there was no trace of shouting or even speaking.

"Where did they go?" she mumbled as she stood and waited for Jack to catch up. "They came this way and couldn't have gone that far. Could they have gone back?"

Jack pointed ahead, toward the end of the corridor. "We'd have seen them. They must have taken the side stairs."

She walked toward a smaller set of stairs that led one floor above. Upon reaching it, she definitely heard the sound of someone saying something in a raised voice. She nodded to Jack and pointed up, quietly taking to the stairs as she stepped one after the other to the next floor. It was the Astronomy corridor, which also was closed to students after hours. The Astronomy corridor was especially frowned upon considering it had access to the Astronomy Tower, which was strictly forbidden to students if not supervised. Being caught in the corridors of the closed section could earn you a detention or two, but being up in the Tower would get you a month's worth of detentions if you were lucky. And that was if McGonagall was feeling generous.

The corridor was once again deserted, but Dominique could hear voices. Her eyes immediately went to the stairs that led up to the Astronomy Tower and she walked over to let herself listen. Sure enough, voices were faintly traveling down.

"They wouldn't have…" Jack said, stepping up to the entrance of the stairwell to listen for himself. "Are they fucking mental? And Louis pinched that bottle from the party, so not only are they up there, but he's up there drinking." He shook his head. "If they get caught, at best McGonagall's going to lock them away in detention for the rest of the year, and at worst she'll suspend them from everything."

"Can you even suspend a tournament champion?" Dominique asked. "That's supposed to be a magically binding contract."

"I don't know," Jack said. "But either way, I bet the papers will love that story."

"Shit," she mumbled realizing that was the truth. The papers would have an absolute field day at Louis getting caught drunk and disorderly, fighting with a girl in a restricted section of the school after hours. She could practically read the headlines already.

"I mean, maybe since he's Head Boy and can be in restricted places?" Jack asked.

"He can be in the restricted corridors if he has reason to believe there's a disturbance," Dominique muttered. "Not if he is the disturbance. He can't just hang out there for shits and giggles. And he sure as shit can't be drinking in them. They'd take away his Head Boy title." She looked up the stairs. "They're both fucked, but Louis could lose everything."

She suddenly stepped onto the first stair; again she felt Jack reach out and grab her.

"You can't," he said, this time looking as if he was deadly serious. "If you get caught, they can throw you off the Quidditch team."

"I can't leave them up there," she said, though the idea of being kicked off the team for Louis and Sarah's stupid decision suddenly made her rethink her noble gesture. "They've both been drinking. People have died falling off that Tower."

"One headmaster," he said, "and I heard he was pushed."

She'd heard that he actually died from a killing curse before he'd fallen, but it was beside the point. "They're both emotional and pissed and I need to get them to come back downstairs and fight in the open." She tugged on her arm to get it back. "I'll be one minute. If they don't come, I promise I'll come right back. Keep an eye out."

Jack let go of her arm, but his face looked as if he didn't want to accept that as an answer. He seemed to know better than to argue with her, so she turned and quickly began running up the spiral staircase. Up and up she went, jogging around the circular stairs before moonlight from the top of the tower suddenly splashed itself over the top collection of steps. She'd reached the top, but she stopped as soon as she heard their voices; she hung back so as to not immediately burst onto the scene. Someone was crying.

"I didn't…" came Louis' voice, sounding apologetic. "I couldn't control it. I told you there were things out there that fucked with my head."

"There's nothing you say to make this better," Sarah said, her voice breaking and the words spilling out between quiet sobs. "Nothing."

Something bad had happened. Dominique walked up a few more steps, but forced herself to stay back.

"I know," Louis said. "I know I can't. I know I fucked up. But it just happened." A long silence. "I'm so sorry."

"Go to hell," snapped Sarah, an anger in her tone that Dominique had never heard before.

Dominique found her eyes growing wide. She was supposed to be walking into that room and pulling them both out, but she was fairly certain she'd never wanted to walk into a room less in her life. She felt glued to the spot.

"Everything's gone," Sarah continued. "You know that? We have nothing left. I can't trust you. I can't even look at you."

"It wasn't—"

"You fucking cheated on me!" she yelled. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing can be said. Nothing can be saved."

Dominique's breath caught in her chest. She felt as if she'd been kicked by a Hippogriff. Louis did what? He wouldn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Her mind was spinning. She'd never heard anything she wanted to believe less in her life. She was torn between refusing to believe and wanting to kill him. She let her head thump dully against the stone wall. What was happening?

It had felt as if weeks had passed in that ten seconds, but something inside of her now was telling her to retreat. She shouldn't be there. Jack had been right. She shouldn't have come up here. She shouldn't have heard any of that. In a daze, she quickly turned to run back around and around the spiraling stairs toward the floor beneath. She was still lost as to what was even happening; going so far as to pass right by Jack once she's reached the bottom.

"Nic, what—?"

She swung around to face him. "He cheated on her."

"What?" he asked, his face screwing up into something of utter disbelief.

"That's what I heard Sarah say. And Louis had been apologizing and saying he was fucked up and he didn't mean to." She stared at him. "He cheated on her."

"I don't believe it." He was shaking his head slowly. "Louis wouldn't—"

"Well, he did," he said rather bluntly, feeling herself getting annoyed. Not with him, but with the entire situation; the fact that this was even happening.

He continued to stare at her, still seemingly questioning everything he'd just heard, though his face suddenly shifted into something more panicked. Dominique was about to ask him what was wrong, but he managed to mutter, "Fuck. The cat."

"The what?" Dominique asked, turning around to notice the sight of a skinny, brown cat now sitting as still as a statue just feet away from the stairwell that had taken them up to the Astronomy corridor. It was now staring at both of them. Mrs. Norris the Third, Filtch's stupid sentinel of a cat. It was always lurking around the castle after hours, looking for student violations. Some believed that it somehow had a magical connection to Filch that allowed him to see what she could see, while others thought that was a load of bollocks considering Filch was a squib and possessed no magical abilities. Either way, it somehow was capable of alerting him as to its whereabouts at any given point—which meant he would be here shortly.

"The bloody cat," Jack said as Dominique began scanning the opposite end of the corridor for some sort of escape. There was nothing but suits of armour and tapestries and doors to classrooms that were currently locked. They could make a run for it, but there was no guarantee they wouldn't run into Filch. It would also leave Louis and Sarah completely fucked. There wasn't enough time to warn them now. She had to somehow draw Filch away from the tower.

She grabbed Jack by the arm and pulled him down the corridor and around the nearest corner, where she stopped and let herself lie flat against the wall beside a particularly shiny piece of armor. She was breathing heavy and Jack was staring at her as if he had no idea what she was doing. That was to be expected because she didn't have any idea what she was doing. She had hoped Mrs. Norris would have followed them away from the tower entrance, but she had only taken a few steps in their direction before sitting back down again.

"What's the cat doing?"

Jack peered around the corner. "Sitting there. It's staring in this direction, but she's still down by the stairway." He looked back at her. "What are we doing?"

"We can't let Filch find Louis and Sarah."

"We can't let Filch find _us._ "

She shook her head and bit her lip as she tried to think. "We'll get detention. They'll get so much worse. You said it yourself. You know it won't be as bad for us."

Jack's expression seemed to acknowledge that he had said that and could understand that train of thought, though he wasn't exactly happy with the idea. "Ok, so...what are we going to do?"

"We let him catch us, get him away from the tower, and hope to Merlin that Louis and Sarah don't choose this exact moment to come back downstairs."

There was a noise from around the corner—footsteps. Dominique pressed herself into the wall out of reflex, whereas Jack stepped closer and took the spot between the corner and her. He seemed to be trying to look around it without being seen.

"It's him," he whispered as he quickly pulled himself back and moved further away from the edge. "He's just come up the stairs."

"What have we here?" Filch could be heard saying. "Have you found something happening up in the Tower, my love? Students up and about, perhaps?" He suddenly made a tutting noise, as if that was clearly a mistake. "We'll have to go up and have a look—"

Dominique suddenly reached out and hit the suit of armor with all the strength she could muster, causing it to rattle and shake. The noise actually startled her a bit. Jack was looking at her as if she'd gone mad, but it had done the trick.

"What's that, my pet?" Filch asked suddenly as his voice carried. "Are they still down here? Have they gone 'round the corner?"

"What exactly are we going to tell him?" Jack whispered. "When he asks what we're doing here?"

Shit. She hadn't thought of that. What reason could she possibly come up with that would make Filch ask the least amount of questions and decide to leave the vicinity quickest?

She looked over at Jack for any sort of idea, but he was looking at her as if he was waiting for her to come up with something. Upon examining his face, a plan suddenly hit her like a Bludger to the skull, but it wasn't without a world of complications that would inevitably follow. She didn't have time to think it over, though. Filch had to walk maybe thirty yards and he was probably halfway here by now. She had to do it and she had to do it now.

"I have an idea."

Jack looked at her expectantly, though all she could do was look back at him in a way that she hoped convey that he was going to have to bear with her. Without explanation, she reached out and pulled him toward her, pressing her lips directly on top of his. There hadn't been enough time for a proper setup or even a second to maneuver into a comfortable position. She'd lunged at him and kissed him rather awkwardly; only at the very last second had she even remembered to close her eyes.

"Well, well, well…"


	17. Canoodling

"Found them canoodling in the Astronomy corridor," Filch said, as she and Jack stood outside the Christmas Party in front of an annoyed looking Professor Longbottom. "Out of bounds after hours. That's an automatic detention, Professor."

"Thank you, Mr. Filch," Longbottom said, his tone clipped. Whether that was because he was being told what to do or because he was there dealing with this to begin with, Dominique couldn't tell. "I'll take it from here."

Filch gave both she and Jack a smug sort of sneer before hobbling away, humming along with the music that was currently drifting out from the open party doors. In front of them, Longbottom was rubbing the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache.

"Need I remind you two that you're in the same house?"

Dominique looked confused. She glanced at Jack, who also didn't seem to understand the comment. It was he who answered with a very curious sounding, "No, sir?"

Longbottom looked at them. "What is happening tonight? I'm tearing a Slytherin couple off of each other because they can't keep their hands to themselves on the dance floor, I've got the two of you running off to closed corridors to do whatever it is Filch caught you doing because…?" He stopped and stared at them. "Why exactly? Do people not snog in the common rooms anymore? Has that stopped being something people do since I was a student?"

They both shook their heads and mumbled, "No, sir," in mixed unison.

"Then what possessed you to go to a restricted section of the school?"

Jack took a breath as if he was going to answer that, but then nothing came out. He inevitably shrugged, prompting Dominique to quip, "When the urge strikes…?"

Longbottom continued to look as if he would really rather not be having this conversation. "You're of age. You're adults. I'm not going to lecture you about what you choose to do and with whom you choose to do it with. That's none of my business."

That was a refreshing change of pace. Dominique wondered whether Longbottom had perhaps had a few drinks that evening. Maybe that was what was contributing to his laissez faire attitude. Maybe he was just eager to get back to his fancy dancing.

"I am, however, going to lecture you about where you choose to do it," he continued. "Because you've chosen to break a very clear rule. And given that you were caught by Mr. Filch, you will have to serve detention."

Dominique sighed. There it was.

"We'll deal with this after the holiday," Longbottom said, looking over his shoulder as if to check on the party. "Now do me a favor, the next time the urge strikes, can you contain yourselves until you're back in the tower where you both live? Or perhaps one of the many instances where you find yourself alone near the Quidditch pitch? Or in Hogsmeade, where you're allowed to visit every weekend as seventh-years? I could continue, but I feel as if that would be entirely inappropriate. Figure it out and stay out of the restricted areas."

"Yes, sir," they both said.

Longbottom shook his head before he turned without another word and headed back into the party. Both she and Jack stood there for a moment, casually exchanging glances before he said, "That wasn't too bad."

"We technically didn't even get detention. We got the promise of detention. Maybe he'll forget?"

He made a face as if to say that would be fortunate, but his gaze was now in the direction of the party. She wondered if he was pondering whether they should go back in or call it a night, though if he asked, she already had her answer.

"I think I'm going to head back upstairs," she said, stepping toward the stairs. "But you should stay if you want."

"I didn't want to come in the first place," he reminded her, nodding down the corridor. "I'll come with you."

The two of them proceeded to walk toward the main staircase; both quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Considering everything that had occurred in the last half an hour, things could have been far more awkward than they were. Instead, everything felt relatively normal. She felt accomplished, as if she'd just done a very good deed—one that Louis and Sarah probably wouldn't appreciate if their conversation from the tower inevitably led them to where she assumed it would. They'd probably be far too preoccupied, but she was glad she'd helped to not make their evenings worse. That is, if they still weren't up there risking their school careers.

And, she'd kissed Jack. This night had been especially strange in that she'd barely had time to process all these lovely little moments they'd been having on their not-a-real-date date. Their kiss had actually fit the theme since it was not-a-real-kiss kiss, but it had been a kiss nonetheless. A weird, hurried, uncomfortable kiss, but a kiss.

"Well, this has been...something," Jack said as they climbed the first set of stairs.

"What do you think happened with Louis and Sarah?"

He shrugged as his gaze stayed on the steps in front of him. "Hopefully, Filch was so tied up with us they had time to get out of there."

She nodded. "I can't believe Louis…" She trailed off, still completely lost and angry at the idea that he had cheated. He'd been so in love with her, even just weeks ago. What could have possibly happened to change that? What was he thinking?

"You're sure you heard—?"

"I know what I heard."

He started to shake his head as they reached the next flight of stairs. "I don't understand. I really don't."

"It's going to be a mess. Sarah's going to be…" She shook her head, not even wanting to think of it. "When she and Robbie split up in fifth year—and that was after she dumped him, remember?—she spent hours and hours talking about it. All night. I'm not sleeping tonight. It'll be like that night last year when—" She stopped when she remembered the night she was recalling, almost exactly a year ago today, but it hadn't been Sarah she'd been forced to listen to. It had been Whit; she'd been lamenting about her break up with Jack.

He was looking over at her, as if waiting for her to finish. She instead brushed it off and muttered, "I...I'm just preparing myself for a long night."

"Probably," he agreed. "Lou'd had a lot to drink even before all that happened. Who knows what shape he's going to be in."

"He'll be in worse shape once I get to him."

They didn't speak until they reached the final flight of stairs. After that, Jack finally mumbled, "Just when you think things have gone back to normal around here."

"Dominique!" yelled what she already immediately recognized as Sarah's voice. When she and Jack both did look down, Sarah was currently walking straight toward them in a whirl of anger, smudged make-up, and puffy-eyes. She stopped right in front of both of them, though her tear-streaked face settled on Dominique. "Your brother is an arsehole!"

She remembered that she wasn't supposed to know what had occurred, so she attempted to make her tone curious and play dumb. "Wha...what happened?"

"What happened is that we're fucking done!" she said, walking past both of them and continuing up the stairs. "Done! He can go and fuck himself!"

"Sarah," Jack called after her, but she completely ignored him and was already turning.

"And there it is," Dominique said.

"Shit," he whispered.

She glanced back down the stairs, assuming Louis couldn't be too far behind. They probably didn't walk back together, but where else was he going to go? Especially since he'd been drinking and was technically still in recovery. A part of her wanted to wait for him, to ask him what had happened and what was wrong with him, but she wasn't sure she could do that quite yet without yelling at him. And given that Sarah had probably been doing that the last hour or so, she knew yelling wasn't going to get her anywhere. He'd tune her right out and tell her to fuck right off. That's what she would have done.

"I'm going to..." She pointed up the stairs toward the path Sarah had just taken. "I should go catch her."

Jack nodded. "I'm going to find Louis."

"Better you than me," she muttered as the both of them parted and went in seperate directions—she up the stairs and he down them.

She had returned to their room, only to find it completely empty. She'd run into a very curious looking Natalie and Flynn back in the common room, who had apparently seen Sarah come storming through, though she hadn't answered any of Flynn's questions when asked. They'd both seen her come upstairs, and it had taken Dominique a few minutes to figure out that she was in the showers crying. She knew she wouldn't want to be interrupted in that situation—thinking back to weeks before—so she instead went back to their room to wait for her during the entire hour she was in there. When she finally had returned, she didn't hesitate to launch straight into her story.

As she spoke, she seemed to be past crying by now and had moved onto anger. By the time Natalie and Eleanor had tepidly entered their room, clearly unsure if they even should be there, Sarah had composed herself to the point where Dominique could feel the anger radiating off of her. She began the story over once more since she now had a new audience.

"He kissed another girl."

"He didn't," said Eleanor, who had stepped forward and walked over to Sarah's bed. Natalie had hung back and slowly wandered over to her own bed, but her focus was still on Sarah.

Sarah was nodding, a residual sniffle from the last half an hour escaping her.

"Who?"

"The fucking French girl!" Sarah yelled, just as Dominique quietly said, "The French champion."

Eleanor was shaking her head as Natalie looked on relatively shocked. Sarah glanced over at the latter of the two, as if finally noticing she was there. Dominique had expected a snide comment or a put down, but she instead muttered, "You were the clever one. You dumped him before he could fuck you over."

Natalie said nothing. Her face remained expressionless.

"I don't understand," Eleanor said. "What happened exactly?"

That was the question Dominique wanted to know; she was afraid she was getting only one side of the story. Not that there was anything Louis could say to make what he did make any sense, but she wanted to know why? What had possessed him to do such a thing? How had he gone from being madly in love with her weeks ago to kissing another girl? It didn't make any sense. That wasn't who her brother was—at least, as far as she knew.

"It happened in that bloody fucking cave he was trapped in," Sarah said, looking at Eleanor. "So, while I was sitting worrying if he was even alive, he was snogging some girl—"

"Wasn't he near death in that cave?" Natalie asked, speaking for the first time. "Isn't that why he was in hospital for over a week?"

"I mean, maybe not at first," Dominique said, leaning up against her bedpost. "He was in there for hours, but I'd assume the first couple he may have doing alright."

"Oh no, he was doing better than fucking alright," Sarah spat.

"How do you get trapped in a cave and think, 'Hey, I think I'm going to try and snog someone'?"

"He says the mountain fucked up his head," Sarah said, her voice dripping with acrimony. "That it wasn't just the cave, but the entire time he was on it that magic was messing with his mind and making him think he was dying, or in love, or wanting to jump off a cliff, or some bollocks excuse he's making up. Apparently, he's fine fighting it off the rest of the time, but not when he's in a cave with some girl." She looked away. "I bet it wasn't even an accident they were in there together."

"I mean, he did mention to me the whole weird head spells messing with him," Dominique offered. "I don't think he's necessarily making that up."

Sarah glared at her.

"I'm just…" She shrugged. "He did say that. Maybe since he was weak and beaten down once he was trapped, after awhile—"

"Stop defending him!" Sarah yelled. "For fuck's sake. Just stop!"

The room had already been quiet, but now you could hear a pin drop. It was almost as if somehow, even the white noise of the rest of the school had even managed to be sucked up into the silence. They were all staring at each other, though Sarah was glaring straight at Dominique.

"I wasn't trying to…" Dominique said slowly, though she realized she was. She'd been attempting to shine some light on the situation and make sense of things, but it didn't change that Louis had kissed another girl and cheated. Making sense of it wasn't going to take the pain or the betrayal away. It wasn't going to make Sarah feel better.

The rest of the night, Sarah continued to talk. She claimed that at the party, she and Louis finally rowed about his coldness toward her lately. He claimed it came down to the fact that he was wracked with guilt and couldn't look at her without feeling like shit. He was attempting to push her away because he didn't know if he could tell her the truth, but then he had. It all came spilling out of him once she called him out.

The entire act of betrayal had been bad enough, but the way he'd tried to hurt her even after the fact had made it even worse. She'd actually told him to enjoy his trip to Beauxbatons where he could go and see his new girlfriend before storming away. She painted a picture of a very ugly and messy scene atop that Astronomy Tower; Dominique had only caught the briefest snip of it. She decided not to tell Sarah anything about that for the moment. Perhaps some other time.

Sarah had eventually exhausted herself from all the crying and venting, which combined with the alcohol she'd already been drinking all night, caused her to shut her eyes during a lull in the conversation and pass out in the next moment. It had been nearly one in the morning at that point. Dominique remembered checking the clock.

Natalie had stood up and left after that, while Eleanor retired to her own bed without a word. Dominique had tried to lie down and close her eyes, but she now had too much on her mind to fall asleep. It may have been one in the morning, but you could have told her mind it was noon. None of this made any sense. None of it. This was not the Louis she knew and—while she did believe it—she also couldn't believe it. What the hell was happening?

She peeled herself out of bed and—in her pajamas—walked out of her room, down the stairs, and into the bustling common room. Even at this hour, it was still fairly busy considering there was no school in the morning and everyone was set to head home on holiday. The vibe was good natured and jovial, which was in stark contrast to the room she'd just walked out of. She noticed there was no sign of Louis or Jack downstairs, but Flynn was sitting with Natalie, Flyer, and some of his friends playing cards. He and Natalie were currently very engaged in conversation, and Dominique already had a sneaking suspicion what they were talking about.

Flynn caught her eye as she wandered over and nodded, which caused Natalie to turn around abruptly as if she was worried about who might be there. She calmed considerably when she saw who it was.

"He was just asking—"

"I figured," Dominique said, cutting her off and looking directly at him. "Louis did come back at some point, right? Have you spoken to him?"

"Yeah, but barely." Flynn muttered. "He was drunk and a mess."

"He's asleep?"

"Asleep or passed out. Whatever you want to call it."

Dominique looked up toward the stairs of the boys' dormitory. She wasn't surprised that he probably drank himself into a stupor, but a part of her still wanted to see him and ask him what the fuck he was thinking. A part of her felt she should wake him up to do just that. She glanced back at Flynn. "I'm going up there."

"There's no point now. You know he's impossible to wake when he's like that."

It was true. Her brother slept heavier than anyone she'd ever met, though that was usually due to the potions he took to keep him from dreaming—or nightmaring, rather. If he remembered to take his potions on top of drinking, he was guaranteed to be out for at least twelve hours. She could march a parade through that room and he wouldn't budge.

She knew it was futile to even bother, but the urge to go up there was simply too strong at the moment. She had to see it for herself.

"We'll see about that," she said, blowing past them and heading up the boys' stairs. The corridor was quiet as she went straight to the door of the seventh-year boys' room. She was about to pound on it, but she thought better of it. Jack could be asleep, and she didn't want to startle him—or anyone who was sleeping nearby for that matter. Instead, she issued a small cursory knock. In the next second, she was already pushing their door open.

The room was dimly lit, with the only light coming from the table between Jack and Louis' beds. She heard the dull sound of Louis' radio carrying voices over to her, and noticed the curtains were drawn around his bed.

They were open entirely around Jack's, though he wasn't in it. He was actually on the floor beside his bed doing sit ups. He was turned away from her and didn't immediately notice, though as she let the door open further, the creaking eventually caught his attention. He looked up and over at her in an upside down way, given he was on his back; he seemed startled to see her because in the next moment, he'd let his head slip awkwardly and thump onto the floor. It hadn't sounded pleasant.

He'd pulled himself up quickly at that, rubbing his head as he did. "Hey. Hi. What's going on?"

"Hey," she said, smirking a little before walking over to Louis' bed. She pulled the curtain back and saw he was lying on his stomach, fast asleep, snoring loudly, and still dressed in his robes from earlier. Her suspicions were confirmed. This was totally pointless.

"He's been out for awhile," Jack said, now standing. "How's Sarah?"

"Finally fell asleep."

"How'd that go?"

"About as well as you'd expect," she said, turning toward him. "What'd this one say?"

"What you'd expect. He's fucked up about it."

"Good. He should be." She let go of the curtain she'd been holding and let it fall back into place. "I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow to tell him off."

He cracked a smile, crossing his arms over his chest as she gave the room a quick lookaround. She supposed she should leave. She'd come to yell at him, but he was asleep and there was nothing left to do here. Nothing at all. Nothing more to see. She really should be going.

She looked back at Jack.

He was still staring at Louis' bed in a vacant, lost-in-thought sort of way, though he eventually must have felt her eyes on him and snapped out of it. It was a heavy sort of silence, the kind where she wished she could have thought of something witty or clever. Instead, her mind was completely blank. Nothing was coming to her. She had to say something.

"Ballycastle win, then?" she asked, gesturing to the radio. She could hear now that he'd been listening to a roundup program for the day's Quidditch matches.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "Obviously. It was Chudley."

"Right," she said, nodding herself before looking over toward the door. "Great. Well done." She took a deep breath. "I guess, I should—"

"Are you going to bed?" he asked, leaning casually up against the edge of his bed.

"Probably should," she said, knowing she should step toward the door, but feeling her feet rather glued to the spot in front of him. "I was hoping to get an early start tomorrow and I'm exhausted after everything that's happened."

"Yeah. Me too. It's been a night."

Another lull where they both looked at, and around, each other. She found herself shifting her weight on her feet before saying. "Parts of it were a lot of fun, though. I feel like that should be said."

"Sure, yeah," he said, uncrossing his arms. "If I'm being honest, that was probably the most interesting date I've ever been on." He grinned. "They usually don't have as much sneaking around and spying."

She laughed a little, though she found herself now caught on the fact that he'd said the word "date." He hadn't referred to it as one prior to that, even if Sarah and others had. But hearing him say it took on an entirely different meaning. "It was a date now?"

He shrugged, his expression confused. "Wasn't it always?"

"Dates just tend to be…" She trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence without sounding like an idiot. Full of romantic intention? Sexual intention? Isn't that why people went on dates? Otherwise, it was just a get together. A hang out. A meeting. A gathering. An outing. So many other proper terms to use.

"It checks a lot of boxes if you think about it," he continued. "We had to dress up—and that's optional, but we'll count it. There was food. There was drinking. There was dancing." He laughed a little before letting his eyes flicker away for a moment. "And even some kissing."

She inhaled slowly at him mentioning that part. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be, it's fine," he said. "That...that was quick thinking. Filch didn't even ask us any questions. He just marched us straight down to Longbottom."

She found herself smiling. "What's to ask? He's probably caught hundreds of students doing that over the years. He knew the drill."

"It was brilliant," he said, smiling that sweet but reserved smile she'd come to enjoy seeing so much lately. He hesitated before adding, "Probably should say it wasn't my best effort. I feel that needs to be said."

She laughed a little as if to agree, but found herself absently glancing down toward the floor. "Mine either. I think that goes without saying. I did sort of—" she gently clapped her hands together to mimic the collision, "come right at you."

He suddenly clapped his hands together much harder. "It was more like that."

"It wasn't that hard," she said defensively. "You're acting as if I smacked you in the face."

He smiled. "I mean, you did a wee bit. Smacked my face with your face."

"I'm about to smack your face with my hand," she joked as she reached out to pretend to smack him. He laughed and fended her off rather easily, grabbing her wrist in the process. When he didn't let go, her gut reaction was to use the other hand, which caused a bit of a playful tussle to break out. Once he had her rather tied up by holding onto her arms, she laughed at the predicament and gave up rather lamely.

"Alright," she said, gesturing to their tangled up arms. "You win."

"Win, what?" he asked, though he wasn't letting go of anything; she also wasn't pulling away. After a few lighthearted seconds, something shifted; they now found themselves staring at each other and engulfed by a new and very loaded silence. Given how they were looking at each other, she didn't feel as if either of them needed to say anything. Everything she wanted him to know was written all over her face. All she wanted to do was kiss him properly and make up for that abysmal display for Filch earlier. They owed it to each other to not have that be the first and only impression of the other's snogging abilities.

She suddenly stepped forward just as he was already pulling her toward him; the space between them quickly filled and she kissed him where he sat. It had happened so quickly, and before she could really process what she'd done, it was already happening. This was happening. Her lips were pressed against his. Months. She'd been waiting for this for months; the pent up tension was bursting to work its way out as she let herself get swept up.

This time, they weren't smashed together or uncomfortable. This time, everything about it was rather perfect. It was a sweet sort of kiss that made invisible butterflies fly around in her chest while the rest of her was ready to melt away into a happy pile of goo. His lips were soft and he tasted like toothpaste, which made her happier than it should have. It made everything about her tingle.

It lasted about thirty seconds before they finally pulled apart. He was slowly smiling and she could feel herself doing the same. She had no words. She truly did not know what to say.

"If that's what winning gets me, I need to win more," he finally managed to say.

She let a slight laugh escape her. "That was certainly better than the first time."

He was nodding rather absently. "I can still do better."

"Oh, I know I can," she said, wasting no time leaning straight back into him and planting her lips on his once more. This time, they both went in with more purpose. They were more assertive now; there was more movement. He'd reached behind her neck to pull her closer; she could feel his fingers running through the hair on her nape.

She pulled him as close as she could, which wasn't hard seeing as they were full on snogging now. She was now acutely aware of every moment being made. He'd pulled himself onto the bed to sit and she'd done the same. Her hand went to his face and his hand went to her side. The quick, thoughtful movements of their lips grew more heated. Her tongue was in his mouth and he matched her straight away. She had to inhale sharply through her nose, which only seemed to push him further.

She wanted to push him down the rest of the way on that bed and snog his adorable face off. She wanted to keep this up for hours; letting the minutes pass until things inevitably led to whatever this could turn into. She wanted to get worked up even further than she already was; she wanted to touch and explore, but she couldn't. She had to fight the urge because...

"Why do you have to live with my brother?" she said a little breathlessly once she'd managed to break away from his lips for a half second.

He hummed in a way that seemed to say he understood, "I'm pretending he's not here."

"I need to pretend harder," she said, though as she spoke the words, the door to their room opened.

She didn't look or even bother to pull herself off of him, but she did hear Flynn's unmistakable voice say, "Oh, shit, sorry. Shit. You're supposed to put something on the door. Sorry."

They'd stopped then—though not with any particular urgency; they didn't even let go or pull their faces apart right away. Jack actually took the moment to let his forehead thump lightly onto hers, as if accepting a small defeat in their discovery. He finally glanced over at Flynn. "Didn't have time."

Flynn was already halfway out the door. "I can go back down—"

"No," Dominique said, stepping back and immediately setting to straighten herself out. "It's fine. I should go anyway. It's late."

"No, don't let me..." Flynn began to stammer. "Don't let me spoil anything."

She threw him a funny look before gesturing to Louis' bed. "You can't spoil anything that my brother sleeping five feet away already hasn't." She glanced back at Jack, who was smiling in a dazed sort of way. She returned it, not really knowing what else to say other than. "See you tomorrow?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

Flynn was still standing there looking rather conflicted, seemingly unsure as to what he should be doing. She threw him a lazy nod before walking past him out the door, calling a quick, "Night," over her shoulder as she walked out into the dimly lit corridor.

She stood there for a moment, inhaling slowly but also now grinning in a way she couldn't hide if she tried. Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that? She stopped to lean against the nearest wall. Her head was spinning and she could not stop smiling. It happened so fast. She closed her eyes, attempting to remember everything. What could have been…?

"Hey, Nic—" Jack called after her, appearing to half hang out of his room as he did so. He'd shouted a bit, though he quickly lowered his volume once he realized she wasn't down by the stairs as he'd probably assumed, but instead was right outside of his door. He blinked as if surprised to see her there, and she awkwardly pulled herself up off the wall.

"Hey. Hi. Sorry?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and attempting to look casual.

To his credit, Jack asked her no questions, just smiled and stepped out of his room toward her. "I wanted you to know that I had a great night."

She smiled a little, still trying to remain cool and collected despite simultaneously wanting to melt into a puddle. "I did, too. We should do it again. Without all the drama. Maybe a bit more privacy?"

He smiled. "Yeah, let's work that out." He almost seemed as if he wanted to kiss her again, and while she wanted to be pressed up against him, she was also in a strange place where a gesture like that seemed awkward. It was one thing when they were caught up in the heat of the moment, but a proper kiss goodnight seemed so...official and relationship-y. She wasn't quite sure she was ready for that part yet.

She laughed awkwardly and stepped backward, knowing that if she kept this up, she'd reach the stairs eventually. "Right. Well, have a good night."

"Night," he said with a curious sort of stare, watching as she reached the point where she felt the floor grow colder under her feet. She'd stepped off the floor and reached the stone stairway. She smiled at him once more before she turned to face forward and called one last, "Night" over her shoulder before heading down the stairs.

She made her way down the stairs and across the common room. Awkward parts aside, she again forced herself to remember the actual snogging. That was fantastic. That was six bloody months of build up for such an incredibly satisfying pay off that she already knew exactly what she would be thinking about tonight as she tried to fall asleep tonight. She was going to let her mind wander as to where that could have gone had Louis and Flynn not been a factor.


	18. Favorite Person

The following morning, Dominique had left her trunk and all of her things sitting outside of the Great Hall as she popped inside for some sort of caffeine. It had been a long night for so many reasons, and while she'd hoped for a bit of a lie in, she had been up almost first thing thanks to the loud hustle and bustle of the girls' dormitory. Younger girls, who'd been loudly walking around the corridor that morning packing their things and getting ready to catch the train at nine o'clock, proved to be extremely disruptive. She didn't have to catch the train and had planned to leave school around lunch time, but that clearly wasn't happening now. It was currently ten after nine and she was wide awake. It was probably best to just get a move on and go home.

The Great Hall was practically empty. The train had left at nine sharp, so the majority of the school was well on their way home. She counted maybe ten people of various ages in the entire room, all sitting at their respective tables. It was almost eerie how cavernous the room seemed with so few people in it. Even with so few people present, Dominique immediately noticed that Flynn and Natalie were among the numbers sitting at the Gryffindor table. They were joined only by Flyer and Fiona Taggart. Seemed Flynn's entire family was here for the holiday.

Natalie caught Dominique's eye as she approached; she looked as tired as Dominique felt. Seemed someone else hadn't slept much either.

"Need this?" she asked, passing Dominique over a pot of tea once she sat across from her. "It's extra strong."

Dominique nodded eagerly, but said nothing as she poured herself some and pulled the warm mug up to her mouth. After a few sips, she glanced back at Flynn. She'd been so tired she'd forgotten that he'd walked in on her and Jack last night, and now felt a bit awkward under his gaze. He didn't say anything and continued on with his breakfast in a sleepy sort of way.

"I take it Louis is still asleep?"

Flynn laughed as if that was a dumb question.

She continued to drink her tea. She had been debating whether or not she wanted to wait for Louis or go straight home, but if he was going to sleep all day and wake up hungover and emotional, it was probably best to go alone and deal with him later. If she did that though, she'd have to answer to her parents about his whereabouts and why he didn't come home with her. She wasn't sure she wanted to do that either, but she wasn't going to wait around for hours. She could sacrifice a cup of tea or two. Or at least as many cups of tea that it would take until Jack made his way down here.

"Is Jack up?"

Flynn cracked a small smile as he stabbed his sausage with his fork. "I haven't seen him this morning. Thought maybe you had."

Dominique hummed as she glanced down the table to watch Flyer randomly stab his sausage in an identical fashion as Flynn had. Was he doing that on purpose or was that just a random Taggart quirk? She returned her attention to Flynn and gestured to the lot of them. "You're all staying at school, then?"

"Yeah, we almost always do. My dad's always busy this time of year, so there's no real point," Flynn said. "And with my N.E.W.T.s and his—" he gestured to Flyer, "O.W.L.s, might as well. Perhaps if I try to do some work over break, by the start of term I'll actually be caught up in everything."

He wouldn't. Flynn working enough to get caught up in one class was a stretch, let alone all of them. He was lazier than she was when it came to finishing schoolwork, and that was saying something.

She looked over at Natalie. "You headed home?"

She shook her head. "No, I've decided to stay as well." She gestured to Flynn. "As he said, I have so much work to do and I could really use the time to catch up. Plus, Trelawney has offered to work one on one with me on my crystal ball gazing, which," she smiled, "is a tremendous opportunity."

Dominique half pretended to be impressed by that, despite it sounding like a bunch of rubbish. She'd never known Natalie to stay behind, but there was always a first for everything. She just wondered how much of that was due to Flynn instead of their heavy workloads.

She, herself, had never stayed at school for the holidays before because her mother always insisted that they return every time. To be fair, Christmastime was her mother's absolute favorite time of the year and she always claimed that having her family there was what made it the most special of occasions. Still, she couldn't help but think how peaceful it would be to have the castle mostly to herself.

"Sarah's staying now as well," Dominique said, draining the last of her tea and reaching back over to refill her cup.

Flynn's brow furrowed. "Since when?"

"Take a wild guess." She picked up her tea again and took a long draw. "I tried waking her up this morning, but she said she'd decided to stay and that she was writing to her folks to tell them today. She claims she wants to be alone and she'd rather do that here than lie around her house." She took her tea cup and began swirling the tea inside around it. "I'll bet you money that if I go and tell her Louis has decided to stay, she'll be packed and ready in ten minutes."

Flynn was now staring through her, looking very much lost in thought. Natalie said nothing. From a few seats away, a very solemn looking Fiona was also staring at Dominique, having apparently been listening to everything being said.

"Just keep an eye on her, will you?" Dominique said as she addressed Flynn specifically, knowing that two went as far back to the days they were in nappies. "Don't let her waste away all holiday?"

He nodded as if to say he could do that. Even Fiona was nodding a little.

Dominique told herself she would have a third cup of tea, and that was it. If her parents asked where Louis was, she'd tell him she didn't know and that she wasn't his keeper. He could deal with that on his own.

She sipped on her tea, noticing that Natalie's eyes were now locked onto the entrance of the Great Hall with great interest. She mumbled, "Look who's here."

They all turned to look. In walked Jack and Louis, the latter of whom looking like complete shit. It was as if he'd been hit by a train, then drowned in a lake, before being dredged up and hit again by a train. His hair was messy and unkempt, his face was pasty and pale, and his eyes were puffy and red. Really red, actually. Red enough that she could see them from across the room.

She met those red eyes immediately, but he immediately looked away. If he had been planning on coming inside any further, he abruptly changed his mind and walked right out. She let her gaze travel to Jack, who was standing there looking a bit confused as to where he'd gone.

"Have a good holiday," Dominique said abruptly to Flynn and Natalie, now standing and marching across the Great Hall to the exit. She walked up to Jack. As happy as she was to see him, she was also happy for Lois providing a distraction since she didn't really know what to say to him. She quickly smiled, ignoring the obvious tension, and instead let her expression ask what was going on with Louis.

He shrugged.

She continued on past him, deciding to confront Louis head on. He was just outside the Great Hall leaning lazily against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his head back and looking up at the ceiling. She knew immediately what he was doing. He was looking to escape—and he always looked up first. She said nothing as she approached him.

"Not now," he croaked, his voice terribly hoarse.

"You stupid idiot."

"Dominique. I'm not in the fucking mood."

"Really? Because that's the exact mood I've heard you've been in lately."

He lowered his gaze to look at her, his red eyes narrowed. "I didn't fuck…" He stopped and glared at her. "Fuck. You," His volume had barely been above a whisper. Even despite it being low, she could feel the anger. That had come from a place of fire inside of him. Louis Weasley never got that angry about anything.

She didn't flinch. "What right do you have to be so angry?"

He turned away from her and snatched at his trunk with such intensity that she was almost expecting the handle to break off. She again wasn't fazed and turned to fetch her own trunk, tapping it quickly with her wand to make it lighter. It was something Louis had forgotten to do, which was why he'd currently been slowed down and was angrily swearing as he attempted to get his trunk down the front stairs.

She noticed Jack nearby still holding his own trunk while watching them both. He caught her attention before saying, "Look, I know the whole thing is bad, but he's really fucked up about it. Maybe just…?"

She threw him a look as if to say that wasn't going to happen and that he should really know better. She trekked after her brother, where he'd just managed to get outside the front door and down the steps. He'd finally levitated his trunk and was walking across the courtyard, but it was easy for her to catch up. Despite wanting to escape her, he wasn't walking very fast at all.

"I swear to Merlin," he muttered, not looking at her, but obviously sensing her presence as she leveled her pace to his.

"You swear what?" she goaded. "You're going to what?"

He didn't say anything. Perhaps he was going to attempt to ignore her. That was fine by her. More time for her to talk without interruption.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

Silence.

"Clearly you weren't thinking."

More silence.

"Which is strange since all you do is think," she said as they made their way down the path to the front gate. It was from there that they could Apparate away, as soon as they were off proper school grounds.

"I'm not talking about this," he snapped. "Mind your own fucking business."

She laughed in a humorless way. "Ohhhh no. No. No. No. No. You went and made it my business when you decided to date my best friend in the first place. You made it my business when I spent most of my night listening to her talk about how you broke her heart."

He said nothing to that, though his expression seemed to soften at hearing what she'd said.

"This is without question the dumbest thing you've ever done."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm not so fucking perfect after all," he snapped again, this time turning to face her. "Maybe I'm fucked up."

She stared at him and only then did she suddenly realize that Jack had followed them and was trailing several paces behind the pair of them. He also stopped once they stopped and was now watching them both.

"I've never once in my life thought you were actually perfect, so you can knock that shit right off," she finally said, staring him straight in the eyes. "But this has nothing to do with being perfect."

"You've obviously chosen your side," he muttered, turning back toward the path. "There's nothing I can say."

"Chosen sides?" she asked. "This has nothing to do with choosing sides. Fuck, Louis, you're my brother. I'd fight anyone for you, but that doesn't mean I can't call you out for being a complete fucking idiot when you're a complete fucking idiot."

He again was silent.

"And seeing as I've heard Sarah's side of things and you're refusing to talk to me…" She shrugged. "I really can't see how you'll change my mind on that, but it doesn't mean I don't want to know what happened."

"I mentally do not have it in me to talk about it right now," he said once they reached the gate, and she knew by looking at him that he absolutely meant that. Even the anger had drained out of him considerably, as if he'd used what little energy he had left to fuel those last outbursts at her. "These last two weeks, I've never been more tired in my life. I just need some time. I need to lock myself away in my room for a couple of days and be by myself. Then I will talk to you."

She sighed. What was she supposed to say to that?

"So," came Jack's voice, reminding her that he was still there. "Lou, did you still want me to pop by later in the week? Or do you want space?"

Louis turned around to look at him. "No, come by. Or maybe I'll come to you. I need a couple of days, but I can't stay locked up all holiday."

"I'll come to you two," Jack offered, his eyes suddenly darting over to Dominique briefly before landing back on Louis. "I'm away for Christmas, but after I'll come 'round." He went and stepped past the pair of them to exit through the gate, though he dawdled in front of Louis. "You look like shit, mate. Get some rest. Seriously."

Louis nodded as Dominique let herself grin a little lazily at Jack. He threw her a small smile as well, though it was clear that was most likely the extent of any real goodbye they were going to have. She hoped he kept his word and came around in a few days. Not that she wouldn't have to fight Louis for his time, but it was better than not seeing him for the next couple of weeks.

"Happy Christmas," Jack said, walking over to half hug, half pat Louis on the back.

"Yeah, you too," he said to him, as Jack turned onto Dominique. There was a very strained second where they both seemed confused as to what they should be doing, but Jack stepped forward to offer a friendly looking hug and she managed to return it a lot less stiffly than she'd thought she would.

"You hate hugging," Louis muttered, and Dominique noticed he was talking to her.

"Yeah, well, it's Christmas time, just…" She rolled her eyes. "Tis the season or whatever."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"For someone who is too tired to talk, you sure are doing enough of it," she snapped, which caused Louis to roll his eyes and step away toward the gate.

She threw Jack an exhausted shrug, which made him whisper, "I'll come by." He glanced over his shoulder to where Louis was doing something to his trunk and reached out to brush her arm affectionately. "Happy Christmas."

"You too," she said, watching as he stepped back and made to pass Louis out of the gate. One final exchange of goodbyes and a couple of lazy waves before Jack had finally Apparated away. She found herself immediately sad that he was gone.

"Can you not tell mum and dad about this?" Louis asked, glancing back at her.

She turned and gave him a look to end all other looks.

"I meant not this minute. Not right when we get home. I don't need mum being mum right now. Can I get a day?"

"Louis, have you seen yourself? You look like death. She's going to fuss no matter what. She was already afraid to send you back to school, but when she sees you—"

"Which is why we don't need to tell her everything right now," he said. "I'll tell her I don't feel well and just want to sleep." He looked at her as if he was about to beg. "Please?"

After everything he'd done, he was owed no favors. He was a prat and deserved every minute of this feeling. She didn't feel the least bit sorry for him, but yet here she was unable to deny him his request. She never fell for his stupid charm act like others did, but seeing him this pitiful; this actually got her. Something inside her felt the need to protect him, even if she hated him for what he'd done. She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

He smiled a little. "You're my favorite person in the world."

"You're still an arsehole."

* * *

Louis slept until Christmas Eve, which meant no one saw hide nor hair of him for the first three days he was home. Their mother fretted, assuming he was still very sick and tired and stressed from the tournament. She made him all of his favorite dinners and snacks and would take them upstairs, only to find them returned barely touched. That would make her worry more and she was currently going back and forth with their father as to whether or not she should have a Healer come by the house to check on him. It would be easier to have it done today rather than Christmas, apparently. Perhaps he needed to go back on the potions he'd stopped taking again.

"He is already too skinny, he cannot afford to lose weight," her mother was saying the morning of Christmas Eve as she and Dominique sat in the living room wrapping the last presents for tomorrow. She'd noticed her mother had gone shopping the day before and Louis had a few more under the tree.

"He's fine, he's just tired," Dominique mumbled as she tied a ribbon around a box for Victoire. She'd kept her word and not mentioned a thing about Sarah to anyone in her family, though it was starting to grate on her that Louis was being treated like a poor kicked puppy who needed extra special meals and presents despite being the one who caused his own problems.

Tonight was the annual Weasley Christmas Eve gathering and this year it was being held at her Uncle Percy's home. She had absolutely no desire to go since her Uncle's Percy and Aunt Audrey's parties were dreadfully stiff and sterile. She'd decided that if Louis' rubbish got him out of it but not her, she was going to blow the lid off of everything.

He'd finally talked to her earlier that morning. Louis, who was usually never up before noon, had been up particularly early that day after sleeping for the last several days. She caught him on his way to his room after a shower—the first shower she'd known him to have taken since they'd arrived home—and she'd noticed his face had returned to its usual handsome state. His color was back, the puffiness was gone, and his eyes were no longer bloodshot. He was starting to look skinnier, but otherwise he seemed like the same old Louis standing in front of her. He had smiled rather meekly at her before disappearing into his room, but hadn't said anything.

"It smells like something died in here," she had said to him fifteen minutes after that encounter, once she'd walked down to the kitchen to retrieve him some leftover waffles before entering his bedroom. "Aren't there charms for that?"

"Doesn't bother me," he muttered, staring at the waffles she was holding outstretched to him. "I'm not hungry."

"For fuck's sake, eat something," she said, still holding them out to him. "You look like a skeleton and mum's about to call a Healer out to have you checked on."

He sighed and took the waffles, picking one up and biting off a piece out of obligation. She watched as he chewed it, which only seemed to make him antsy. "What?"

She went over and shut his door before walking over to where she knew his desk chair was supposed to be. It was difficult to find considering it was currently covered in about three layers of dirty clothes and miscellaneous rubbish. She pushed it all aside and let much of it fall to the floor.

"Go ahead and put that anywhere," he muttered.

"You obviously did." She sat and let herself get comfortable. "Let's hear it, then."

He stared at her.

"It's been days, Louis. I've been patient. I've kept you're stupid secret. Suck it up."

He took another bite of waffle. Then another. After a prolonged silence where Dominique got the impression he was hoping she'd get bored and leave, he finally seemed to realize she had no intention of walking out of that room without hearing his side of the story. He finally mumbled. "What's to say? I cheated on her."

"Yes, I heard that. Loudly and through lots of tears. Let's elaborate a bit."

"I'm sure she told you everything," he said, starting in on the second waffle. "I honestly don't even remember what I told her. I barely remember what happened. I did it. It's done. It's over. I'm moving on."

She blinked at him. Well, that had been dismissive. This wasn't some girl he'd been seeing for a few weeks and ultimately meant nothing; this was the supposed love of his life. The girl he claimed to have secretly pined for since his fourth year, back when she was hung up on some fifth-year bloke and was one of the few girls who didn't give Louis the time of day. They'd been together for over a year.

"You sound so remorseful."

He threw her a look. "I never meant to hurt her," he said, and his tone seemed to mean that. "I'm sorry I did. I'm sorry I was a dick about it when I got back, but I didn't know how to deal with the guilt. But…" He shrugged, finishing the waffle. "What's done is done. Can't dwell on it."

Dominique pulled a face. Where the fuck was this cavalier attitude coming from? "Why did you do it?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Just did."

"That's a shit answer."

"It's a shit question." he responded. "What do you really expect me to say?"

"I expect you to tell me whether or not this was a moment of weakness, or a one time thing, or if you've got something going on with this new girl—what's her name again? Amalie or something?"

He suddenly smiled rather eagerly. So much so, it was rather startling. "Yeah. Amalie."

"Right," she said slowly. "Ok, well, I would hope if you're willing to throw nearly a year and a half away, that—"

"I won't be a one time thing," he said immediately. "There's definitely something there."

She furrowed her brow. "Something there? What does that mean?"

He laughed, his mood now almost giggly. "What do you think it means?"

"Uh, I have no idea what anything you're doing lately means," she said, suddenly feeling rather unnerved by his random pleasant mood. Hadn't he been glumly eating waffles two minutes ago?

"Look, it's hard to say anything for sure," he said with a casual shrug before he lay himself back down to lounge on his bed. "It's all new. I'll have to give it some time to sort out, but…" He smiled. "I have a good feeling about things."

"What things?" she asked, still finding herself baffled by what they were even talking about.

But he hadn't had any real answers of substance to give to her. It was almost as if he was talking in vague circles, and his happy and casual attitude about the entire situation was putting a bad taste in her mouth. She eventually relented her questions and left him to his own devices, letting him go back to hiding away in his room.

Louis continued to stay up in his room after that, leaving Dominique to be the sole child her mother had to help her put the finishing touches on their Christmas festivities. She'd been wrapping presents, helping cut vegetables and prep food, cleaning up the house despite the only visitors they were getting tomorrow being Victoire and Teddy—and they didn't even count. She'd been put to work while Louis got to wallow in a mess of his own creation.

Later that day, there was a knock at the door. Dominique had barely managed to even look up from the ribbons she's been tying in time to catch a taller figure with dark hair outside the window. A sheer curtain was obscuring her from him, leaving only his trace outline to be discernible, but she immediately knew exactly who it was.

Fuck. Davies. Again.

This wasn't even the first time he'd come around since she'd been home, but she'd avoided him that first time as well. She didn't want to see him. The letters had stopped—for a bit. But then, toward the end of the month they'd kicked up again. He'd been writing to ask to see her and for her to talk to him. It honestly was the strangest change in his behavior and she hated it; she was completely turned off by the entire display.

This time, she was learning from the mistakes of the past and not even leaving it up to chance that he'd somehow be able to work his weird charm on her if they met face to face. She'd cut things off and she intended to keep it that way. Everything she'd wanted to say to him, she'd said in that final letter she'd written to him telling him to fuck off forever, so there was nothing further to talk about. She needed him to just leave her alone.

The first time he'd visited had been two days ago when she, Teddy, and Victoire had been sitting around in the kitchen eating snacks their mother had baked for Christmas. Victoire had been the one to answer the door after Dominique ducked under the table and asked her to send him away. She'd gone out and done just that, only far more politely than Dominique would have liked.

She'd made it seem as if Dominique was genuinely out and to try again later. Apparently, Victoire hadn't even realized they'd split up; she'd assumed she was just angry with him and playing games. When she explained that no, they were absolutely done this time, Victoire didn't seem the least bit convinced that was true.

And now here he was on Christmas Eve. She immediately made a point to scoot back against the wall to shield herself behind the Christmas tree as the knocking continued once more.

"I'm not here!" she fiercely whispered once she saw her father emerge from the kitchen and head straight for the door. "Tell him to go away. I don't want to see him!"

He gave her a funny look, but said nothing in response as he opened the door with a swift movement and strong energy. Her father was a lovely man, but he could be rather intimidating even the simplest of looks. It was the scarring on his face. People didn't know what to make of it, so when he let himself even get the slightest bit aggravated, he always appeared so much scarier than he actually was. Davies had never said so, but she got the impression he was a bit intimidated by him. There was really no better person to tell him to go away.

"She's not here and even if she was, I've been told she doesn't want to speak to you. You can stop coming around. She doesn't want to see you and neither do I." He shut the door.

She grinned as she remained in her concealed spot, watching as her father turned and walked straight back into the kitchen. That seemed effective.

Davies' figure dawdled for a moment, even going so far as to glance through the windows, but he soon turned to disappear away from sight. She still chose to sit for another minute or two—at least until her mother returned into the room with more ribbons and an expression that seemed confused.

"Why are you hiding?"

"Henry was at the door."

She stared at her, wondering why that would require her—of all people—to hide. Dominique was usually one to confront those sorts of challenges head on and with lots of sharp barbs. But this was Davies and he'd messed with her head before. She couldn't outright tell her mother that the last time she'd gone to chat with him with the intention of it just being a talk, she ended up having sex with him upstairs in her room. Her mother probably wouldn't appreciate that.

"You and Henry are over again?"

Dominique emerged from her spot behind the tree. "This time for good, I swear."

She nodded as if she understood. "You hadn't mentioned that."

"Wasn't worth mentioning. Nothing about him ever was."

"You don't seem upset this time," she said, setting the ribbons down. "Last time—"

"It was a couple weeks ago. It was long overdue. I shouldn't have ever gone back."

Her mother continued to nod. "If you're happy, then I'm happy for you."

"I'd be happier if he stopped coming around," she mumbled, just as her father entered the room chewing on a Christmas biscuit.

"Are we finally done with that kid?" he asked. "Because I have no problem telling that one off every time I see him. I could do that all day."

"Please do. I'm tired of doing it." she said. "It's time I moved on."

"Well, no rush," he said, giving her hair an affectionate stroke. "Don't feel as if you need to compete with Vic and Lou and get all serious and practically married while in school."

Dominique made a face that had far more to do with the fact that Louis no longer fit that descriptor rather than anything having to do with disagreeing with his point. Given his reaction though, he apparently thought she was doing just that.

"I'm serious," he continued. "I know a lot of people do that. But I'm very happy I didn't settle down with the girl I dated at school. I waited and it paid off."

Her mother looked up and gave her father a very funny sort of look. "I married the man I fell in love with while I was still at school."

"We met when you were essentially done with school," he countered. "You went back to France and graduated within the month. And we didn't go to school together. It's not the same."

Her mother laughed. "No, it's not." She smiled at Dominique. "Your father is right. Take your time and find someone right for you. I never thought you and Henry were in it for the long term."

Dominique wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Ug, I hope not."

There was a knock at the door again, and her father immediately turned with a quickness that seemed to say he was ready to tell Davies where he could go once again. But just as quickly, the knock proved to be cursory as the door suddenly flew open and in walked Victoire with a copy of the Daily Prophet under her arm. She was dressed nicely with her hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail, clearly ready to depart for Uncle Percy's straight from their house.

"Hi, sweetheart," their father said, as his body visibly relaxed and he smiled widely. "Are you here early or are we late?" He checked his watch. "Do we need to get ready to go?"

"It's a bit early, but I was done with my errands and thought I'd come over," she said, pulling the Prophet out from under her arm. "I also have a question. Anyone read the Prophet this morning?"

"Hadn't gotten around to it," he said, just as their mother interrupted to ask, "Is Teddy coming this evening to Percy's?"

She shook her head, still fumbling to open the newspaper. "He's working tonight, but he's off all day tomorrow and he'll be here."

"Can I skip Uncle Percy's?" Dominique asked.

"No. It's Christmas Eve and we're going to go see everyone."

"Does Louis have to go?"

"Not if he's sick."

She rolled her eyes just as Victoire asked, "Is he still sick?"

"He still hasn't left his room much," said their mother. "You don't understand how much stress that tournament takes out of you. Especially after what happened to him. He needs to rest. I'm happy he's home so I know he's properly doing that. He should not have gone back to Hogwarts last week."

"Are you sure that's all it is?" Victoire asked, having reached the page in paper she was looking for and flipping it around for the rest of the family to see. "Or is he depressed because, apparently, he and Sarah split up."

Dominique reached forward to snatch the paper away from Victoire, just as her mother and father made noises of shock and curiosity. She scanned the page Victoire had opened the paper to where, sure enough, a small column had been written dedicated to Louis and Sarah's "very public row at a recent Christmas party at school." Sources said the two were clearly angry and shouting, with Sarah making quite the scene in their shared common room in front of a room full of onlookers. While a breakup wasn't confirmed, these same sources claimed that the couple were obviously no longer together. The reasons for the split were still unknown, but it seemed the fan favorite champion was now very single.

"Funny they talk about his relationship now, as if they haven't been pushing the single angle from the get go," Dominique muttered as her father took the paper from her to read the article himself.

"Ok, but is it true?" Victoire asked, addressing Dominique specifically. "Did he and Sarah split up?"

"I find that hard to believe," her father said, letting their mother now look over the paper. "We'd have heard something." Now he was looking at Dominique for some kind of confirmation.

"He hasn't said much of anything since he's gotten home," her mother said, not looking up from the article in question. "And Sarah hasn't come by to visit once."

"She stayed at school," Dominique said, feeling suddenly put in an awkward position.

Her mother looked up at her. "Her and Louis are usually inseparable, but she chose to stay at school for the holiday?"

Dominique glanced from her sister, to her father, to her mother—all three of whom were now staring at her. How could she deny this? Was she even supposed to? She'd only promised Louis she wouldn't say something right away. It had been days at this point.

"If he's going through a breakup," her father said. "It would explain a lot about his behavior since he got home. It's sort of a relief because I was starting to worry that he was really sick again."

"Why would they have broken up?" her mother asked. "They seemed smitten with each other?" She looked at Dominique. "Did something happen?"

"I…" She searched for words. "I don't know?"

"Oh, please," Victoire said to her, now walking over toward the stairs. "You know everything when it comes to Louis. And Sarah's your best friend. You're full of it."

"Did they split up, Nicki?" asked her father. "Yes or no?"

"Forget it," Victoire said once she reached the stairs, "I'll go ask him."

"Fine," Dominique said, annoyed by how bloody nosey they all were. "Yes. They split up! Yes, that's why he's up there locked away in his room. He's not sick, he's…" She trailed off. They could all use their imagination to put the rest of the pieces together.

Her mother gasped while her father's expression turned concerned. By the stairs, Victoire didn't bother to climb any, instead she suddenly made a sympathetic noise. "Oh, poor, Lou."

"I would not go that far," Dominique mumbled. Victoire caught her eye, as if silently asking her what that had meant, but she merely threw her a look to say that there was a whole lot more to this story.

"What happened?" her mother asked, genuinely now looking distressed as Dominique took the Prophet back from her. "I can't believe it. Why didn't he say anything?"

"The rest of it is his story to tell," Dominique said, shaking her head and walking away from the group of them. "I want no part of it. I barely talk about my own breakups, I'm not touching his." She had been about to climb the stairs, but stopped and rounded back on her family. "So, if he's not sick, he has to go to Percy's tonight, right?"

Her father threw her a look as if to say this wasn't the time to ask that, but as far as she was concerned it was the perfect time. If he didn't have to go because he was a slaggy cheat, then she shouldn't have to go despite not being one.

"If a breakup is an excuse, Henry and I just split, too." She faked a frown. "I'm sad."

"Dominique."

"Bah," she exclaimed once she realized she wasn't getting an answer one way or the other. She turned and walked up the stairs, but bypassed her own room entirely and walked straight to Louis'. She knocked once, but the sound of music playing over his radio either hid the sound or he ignored it. She let herself in, hoping he was decent.

He was sitting on his bed, reading. He seemed surprised to see her as he looked up from his book. He stared as she tossed the copy of the Prophet onto his bed directly beside him; his brow furrowed as if asking what that was for.

"Seems like they finally bothered to mention Sarah," she said, gesturing to the paper. "And now everyone knows you've split up. Including mum, dad, and Vic. They have questions."

He immediately reached for the paper and pulled it up in front of his face, "You can't be serious? It's in the bloody paper?"

"'Reasons for your breakup remain unknown,'" she quoted as she turned to walk back out of the room. "Oh, and I'd get dressed if I were you. Now that you're not sick, you're suffering through Uncle Percy's party with me tonight."


	19. Witch's Wordplay

Louis finally confessed to the breakup, but had chosen not to divulge the truth of its details to their parents. As far as they knew, he and Sarah had just come to blows over the tournament and it had ultimately torn them apart. He'd tried to pull that with Victoire, but the second she and Dominique had been given a free moment at their uncle's party that evening—a party Louis had ultimately been told to come to after an hour long, private conversation with their father up in his room—Dominique had told her the truth.

Victoire, the peaceful, prim, calm, rational person that she was, then proceeded to smack Louis upside the head when no one else was looking.

"What is wrong with you!?" she'd said once she found Louis, who'd parked himself at a game of Gobstones with Freddie and Hugo Weasley.

For being someone that everyone wanted to talk to lately, he'd somehow done a masterful job of avoiding almost every single member of their family with nothing more than a few polite words that night. Both of their parents were quietly explaining that he wasn't up for talking much due to a combination of the breakup and recovery from his mishap at Durmstrang, and of course everyone respected that because it was Louis. After watching him be so coddled, it was actually refreshing to see Victoire give him a little pop.

Life seemed to mostly return to a more normal pace after that. Christmas came and went, with lots of boxes and family dinner; everyone seemingly in decent moods for the day. Louis, who was still mopey and annoying about it, started appearing downstairs for meals and the occasional conversation now. Their mother still doted on him and treated him as if he were some fragile vase that could break at any time, but at least he didn't seem to be relishing in it. On the contrary, he seemed rather annoyed and usually would retreat back up to his room if she went too over the top.

On the day after Boxing Day, he actually plopped himself down in Dominique's room with her for a few hours just to escape. They didn't talk about anything important, but he seemed to want the company.

"I'm going over to Jack's tonight," he said at one point, now sprawled out on her bed while he tossed an old Snitch he'd found on her bedside table up and down over and over again. "It'll be nice to just get out for a bit."

She looked up from where she sat on the floor in front of a pile of Quidditch magazines that she was currently organizing according to the publication date. "When did you talk to Jack?"

"I owled him yesterday."

"I thought he was planning to come here?"

"Probably was, but I wrote him first. Told him I need to get out for a while and that I'd come out to him."

She tossed the magazine she'd been currently sorting to the side. "I want to come."

He immediately shook his head. "No. This is a lads' night. No girls allowed." He glanced back at her. "We're not even going out. We're just going over to his brother's and drinking. Very quiet."

She found herself beginning to glare at him as annoyance began to sweep over her. It was a combination of her being explicitly told she couldn't come, but he also seemed to think that he could go back to the way things once were. He and Jack were obviously still best friends, she'd wouldn't argue that, but it wasn't the same as it was before he and Sarah had gotten together. They weren't the same inseparable kids they once were; the terms of their friendship had changed. He'd put Jack on the back burner for Sarah, and while that was life and part of growing up, it didn't mean that Jack hadn't gone and made other connections and friends since. If Louis thought he was going to change that, he had another thing coming.

"You're aware Jack's my friend now, too."

"Ok? He's always been your friend."

"No, he hasn't," she said. "We were friends because we had you in common. You and Quidditch. That was it. But he and I are actually really good friends now after you and Sarah spent the last year off on your own. You're not going to come and think things are the same as they were before and leave me out of everything."

He laughed. "What are you on about? I'm not trying to leave you out, I just want a night with my mate who—yeah, I've lost touch with a bit lately. Things are different, I get that, but Nic, you and I do bloody everything together. And that's usually fine because we get on so well, but sometimes I need to get away from my sister."

"I don't know," she mumbled, "you've made some really stupid decisions lately when I haven't been around to keep you in line.

He shrugged, as if he couldn't argue that. "Don't act as if you want me around all the time."

She looked back at her magazines. "You honestly don't bother me."

He went back to throwing the Snitch up and down again. "I get that you and Jack are friends now on your own. It's great. I'm not going to steal him away or whatever you've cooked up in your head. We can all be friends. We can all go out tomorrow or the next day or whatever. But not tonight. Tonight, you need to find something else to do."

She pulled out her wand and began moving stacks of magazines back into their storage box. "Fine. I'll find something to do. Maybe I can owl my other best friend and ask her if she—" She purposely stopped. "Ohhhhhhh wait."

Louis sighed in an overdramatic sort of way, as if he clearly didn't like where this was going.

"She's still at school," she continued in a very put-on sort of tone. "She didn't come home because she was sad and depressed because some dickhead went and broke her heart into a million pieces. What an arsehole."

Louis sat up and lobbed the Snitch in her general direction—missing her by several inches—before standing from the bed as if to make an exit. "And this is why I need a night away from you."

But it hadn't been just a night. As it turned out, he disappeared for days. After one night away, he'd owled home to let them know he was fine and not to worry; that Jack's brother and his band had gone on a road trip to their next performance and they'd tagged along. He'd be back when it was over in a few days, though he gave no specifics.

Dominique found herself beyond annoyed after reading the letter. For one, with Louis away, there was absolutely nothing to do around the house other than her homework. And yes, there was a lot she needed to get done, but she hadn't wanted to spend three days straight doing that—especially when her boy-genius brother could have helped her blow through it in half the time had he been home.

Two, it was Louis' fault that Sarah wasn't home to distract her and allowed her someone to visit herself. Granted, had she come home, Dominique was certain she would have had to listen to several angry rants about Louis, but it would have been something. After the second day of being bored out of her mind, she'd have taken that. They could have ranted about Louis together since he was currently on both of their shit lists.

Three, if Louis was with Jack, that meant Jack was distracted and busy. If he was distracted and busy, she didn't get to see him. She didn't know what they were doing, but she found her thoughts drifting to him constantly—about their kiss, their dance, their moments. She had hoped she'd have seen more of him over this break, but he hadn't popped by the house even once. Davies had come by more than Jack had; she hadn't even gotten so much a second-hand, "Jack says hello" when her brother owled home. She'd heard nothing. Perhaps she should have stayed at Hogwarts as well.

It wasn't until New Years Eve, days before they were to return to school, that Louis reappeared. Her family was having a belated birthday dinner for Victoire—whose birthday had been the day before, though she'd chosen to spend it with Ted on some romantic evening. Her mother had prepared one of her famous chocolate souffles as well as a dinner to celebrate. Along with Victoire and Teddy, her Uncle George and his family, as well as her Aunt Ginny and all three of her children had come over. All the younger cousins had grouped off to go run along the beach despite it being nearly freezing outside.

James had hung back to listen to the Puddlemere and Ballycastle Quidditch match on the radio with Dominique. He seemed to be at the age where he wanted to be seen as older and taken more seriously, hence skipping out on the giggles and shouting on the beach with the children. Dominique didn't mind the company after her last few days; it was nice to have someone to chat with about Quidditch.

Just before dinner was served, there had been different kinds of screams now drifting in from outside. They were surprised and cheerful, almost playful. Dominique stopped her conversation with James about the three best Seekers in the league right now, and turned when the front door flew open. In walked Louis, looking desperately in need of a shower and wearing clothes she'd never seen before. It appeared as if he hadn't slept in days, but he was smiling and apparently in a great mood.

"Where the hell have you been?" she asked him. Their mother appeared from the kitchen at the same moment to give him a look that asked the exact same question.

He turned from Dominique to his mother, still smiling. "Did you not get my owl?"

"You've been gone for days, Louis," her mother said, just as Ginny appeared from the kitchen with a glass of wine in her hand to look Louis up and down. She didn't seem to know what to make of his current state; she seemed to have a few questions.

"Oh, well, it was just a bit of an adventure," he said with a shrug, as if it was no big deal. "Sort of just happened. I traveled up and down the coast in Ireland in a van with these Muggles, but it was fantastic."

Victoire and Teddy had appeared behind Ginny, their expressions curious as well. Everyone was staring at Louis as if he were a strange creature who'd materialized out of thin air, though he didn't seem to mind in the least.

"Why is everyone here?" he asked, looking around. "Are we having a party?"

"It's a birthday dinner for your sister."

"Wasn't her birthday yesterday?" He glanced over at Victoire. "Happy birthday, by the way."

Victoire raised her glass up in a sarcastic salute.

"I'm going to go shower and then I'll come down and be social," he said, immediately heading for the stairs. Their mother did not seem to be particularly amused, but seemed to be biting her tongue in front of their guests.

Ginny proceeded into the living room, walking over to where James and Dominique were sitting near the radio. She took the nearest seat on the sofa, while—on the other side of the room—Teddy and Victoire took a seat, but were chatting about something amongst themselves.

Her aunt gestured to the radio. "I assume Puddlemere is winning?"

"Safest bet you could ever make," James said as the announcer on the radio proclaimed Ballycastle had scored and we now within two-hundred points of the lead.

Listening to this match only reminded Dominique of Jack and how he'd be making a hundred excuses right now for Ballycastle's losing. It made it hard to concentrate on the actual Quidditch when he kept popping into her head every time the word Ballycastle was spoken.

"Harpies won their match earlier," Ginny said. "Beat Appleby pretty thoroughly." She smiled at Dominique. "I think we've got a great chance this year."

"I would love to see them make it to the championship," Dominique said with a dreamy sort of smile. "Anyone but Puddlemere."

"I hate Puddlemere," James muttered before glancing back at Dominique. "You know who's a big Puddlemere fan? Alice."

"Alice from Quidditch? She's never said anything."

"I think she hears everyone slag on them all the time and keeps quiet. Doesn't seem like the type to challenge you, or Tommy, or Jack."

"It's not a challenge to stand up for your team," Dominique said. "She needs to speak up."

"You're quite scary," James said bluntly.

"Honestly, James?" Ginny said, rolling her eyes at her son before settling her gaze on Dominique. "But speaking of people on your Quidditch team, I hear you've gone and taken up with someone on it. How's that going?"

Dominique stared at her rather blankly; James looked from his mother and back to her, as if that were news to him. Dominique's expression must have shifted into something more closely resembling shock and alarm, because her aunt suddenly backtracked and said, "I'm sorry. Was that not…? Perhaps I got the wrong information."

"What information did you get?" she asked, genuinely wondering where she would have picked up any sort of story like that.

Ginny suddenly looked a bit embarrassed. "I shouldn't have even said anything. I must have misunderstood. Harry and I had dinner with Neville the other night and he mentioned you and someone on your Quidditch team having been caught by Filch in the corridors after hours." She gave Dominique a very particular look, as if alluding to what Filch had caught her doing, though not saying it outloud.

"Who?" James asked, looking at Dominique. "And doing what?"

"Mind your business," Dominique said to him, still more than surprised that Professor Longbottom went and gossiped about his students with his friends. Who knew they were as bad as the students?

"It's got to be Jack, then," James said. "I mean, who else would it be? You two are like this—" He crossed his fingers and held them up to show her. "And I saw you two dancing at the Christmas Party."

"Wait, Nicki was dancing with someone?" Victoire asked, naturally choosing that exact moment to be a nosy brat and tune into their conversation. "Who? What are we talking about?"

"Nothing," Dominique said as Ginny threw her son a silencing look, warning him to drop it. He apparently didn't get the hint.

"Filch caught Nicki and _someone_ on the Quidditch team after hours in the corridors messing around," he said . The little shit. It was as if he wanted to be cursed into the new year.

"Oh yeah?" asked Ted, suddenly intrigued. "You know, I managed to get through all seven years without ever having to deal with Filch. I feel as if everyone else has a story, but I never did."

"He never bothered me either," Victoire said, though her eyes were quickly back on her sister as her expression grew playful. "And who were you messing around with? Who's even on the team this year?"

"My guess would be Jack," James offered. "They're both close and always together. Plus, I saw them dancing at the Christmas Party together."

The playfulness in Victoire's face slid off into something else entirely. Even Ted's face seemed to say he'd been taken off guard by that. He'd turned to look at Victoire to gauge her reaction, though she didn't take her eyes off her sister. When he turned back, he was smirking. "Your brother's best mate."

"Ohhhhh," Ginny said softly as she stood from the sofa, now apparently wanting to escape this awkward situation. "Now I understand. Wow do I. I am sorry I said anything."

"For the record," Dominique said, now addressing the small group in front of her. "I have a perfectly good explanation if you would all just listen."

"I did, too," Ginny said, patting Dominique on the back as she made her way to exit the room. "But the heart wants what it wants."

"Does Louis know?" Ted asked.

"He does not, because—"

"Louis would be a bloody hypocrite if he got upset," Victoire said to Ted before again turning back to Dominique. "And how long have you two been—?"

"Would you just listen!?" Dominique snapped, forcing her sister into silence. "Yes, Filch caught me and Jack kissing in a corridor, but we only did it in the first place because…"

She then proceeded to tell them about the entire events of the Christmas party evening. From the reason she and Jack went together in the first place, to the rows Louis and Sarah had, to her and Jack following them through the school and finding them in the Astronomy Tower breaking up, to distracting Filch. She told them every detail and when she was done, not one of them looked particularly convinced. Victoire especially was staring at her as that was a load of bollocks.

"Those sure were a lot of words to say that you wanted to snog in an empty corridor."

"I didn't want to snog in an empty corridor!" Dominique said, now getting annoyed. "Why would I have done that when—" and she suddenly felt herself channeling Professor Longbottom, "—I live in the same house with him and could do it anywhere in Gryffindor Tower? Or when we're alone at Quidditch? Or any other bloody time because he and I are often alone together."

"And now everyone knows what you're doing when you're alone," Ted quipped. Victoire threw him an amused smile, though Dominique fought every urge in her body to curse their stupid faces.

"Look, could you at least be upfront with Louis and tell him?" Victoire asked. "Can we all stop with these secret relationships that ultimately lead to fights and fallouts?"

Dominique pulled a face and aimed it directly for the two of them, who'd kept their relationship a secret from everyone but her—and she'd only found out accidentally—for months before it finally came out. "You're one to talk about keeping secrets."

"Which is why," Victoire said, now pointing at her, "I'm saying we should nip it in the bud from the start and you should tell Louis."

"There's nothing to…" She hesitated, thinking now of Jack's hands on her waist and his tongue in her mouth. "It's...there's nothing to tell Louis."

At that very moment, footsteps thumping down the stairs led to Louis appearing seconds later, looking clean and far more like his usual self. He was pulling a jumper over his wet head of hair as he walked into the living room asking, "Tell me what?"

Dominique groaned. How did she end up in the situation? Victoire was now staring at her as if urging her to speak, but she genuinely felt that this was a nothing story; they were all blowing it out of proportion. It wasn't even that she didn't want to tell Louis—she'd saved him that night, after all, so why shouldn't he know?—but she didn't want to tell him like this. This made it seem far more scandalous than it actually was. It's not as if they were talking about the real kiss she and Jack shared.

"Tell me what?" he repeated, glancing around the room. "What is it?"

Victoire stared at Dominique and she stared right back. She wasn't going to do it just because Victoire was a know-it-all who thought she knew best. She couldn't make her.

"Jack and Nicki got caught snogging in the Astronomy corridor by Filch after the Christmas Party," James said, reminding everyone of his presence. Dominique immediately let her dark glare settle right onto him. He must have a death wish.

"James," Ted said, throwing him a half amused, half scolding look. "Come on, mate."

"No one else was saying it," he offered. "Thought I'd move things along."

Dominique turned back to Louis. "Ok, but there's a perfectly good—"

"I know," he said, shrugging as if he didn't care while he took the nearest seat on the sofa and began randomly adjusting the sleeves to his jumper. "Jack told me. I heard the whole story."

That was rather surprising to hear. She hadn't anticipated Jack being the one to break the news to Louis, even if there was a very good story behind it. Now she wondered if he'd told him anything else. "He did?"

"He did," Louis said, as he continued to roll his sleeves up. "He told me you did it to distract Filch. It worked because I didn't get caught. I appreciate it because I wasn't thinking straight that night, so the last thing I would have needed would have been to get blasted for being up in the Astronomy Tower after hours." He mused on that thought. "I'm pretty sure McGonagall would have had my head. She really hates people going up there when they're not supposed to."

"That's all he said?"

Louis nodded, looking preoccupied.

She smirked, feeling pleasantly surprised. It quickly turned smug as she turned it onto Victoire and Ted. "Told you."

Victoire rolled her eyes though Ted was still looking doubtful. His expression was very much, " _Whatever you say."_

Dinner was served shortly after, with James, Albus, Lily, Freddie, and Roxy all sitting at the kitchen table while everyone else was crowded around the dining room table. Dominique could fondly remember the days when it had been she, her siblings, and Ted all left in the kitchen so as to not disturb the grown-ups, but it seems somewhere along the way she'd gone and become one of those very adults who had gotten a chair at the big table. It seemed James, for all his efforts, wasn't quite there yet.

The food was spectacular, but it always was when her mother cooked. There was chatter about how Christmas had been spent and what everyone's New Year's plans were. Louis regaled them all with a watered down, very innocent sounding version of his adventures with Jack and his brother's band for the last few days. They had apparently met people from all walks of life, slept in a shithole motel, dealt with a van that broke down at least twice—though Louis said Jack's understanding of both cars and magic came in quite handy there, even if they had to keep it a secret from the Muggles—and watched the sunrise almost every day since they'd stayed up all night.

Jack had apparently even gotten a tattoo at some point, which had caused both her parents and Dominique to stare at Louis in an alarmed sort of way. She because she was shocked to hear it and now had so many questions she wasn't about to ask in front of her extended family; her parents because they were afraid Louis had done the same.

"I didn't," Louis said as he speared a potato with his fork. "If I ever get a tattoo, it's going to be a proper one done through a wizard artist. The Muggle tattoos don't even do anything."

Everyone other than her and her mother seemed to think it was wonderful that Louis had gone out and had an epic experience after what he'd been through. It was evident that her mother still wasn't happy about the lack of communication while being on the mend from Durmstrang; Dominique was still annoyed that she'd been left out of this great adventure entirely. She was left twiddling her thumbs while Louis—who only needed to get over his break-up because he'd caused it—was getting pats on the back and told "you're only young once" and "it's good since you've been under so much pressure lately." It was almost amazing how untouchable he was.

After dinner and pudding, Ginny and her kids were headed home, where hopefully Harry was off work by now so that they could enjoy a quiet New Year's Eve. Or rather, as quiet as it could be with three of their own children, plus Freddie and Roxy—who were spending the night with them. George and Angelina had plans to go out and had convinced both of Dominique's parents to join them.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her parents go out randomly—without there being a preplanned occasion prompting them—but it was nice to see them get out and plan on having a bit of fun. It was also rather depressing considering her parents were having more fun than she was lately.

Teddy and Victoire were going to Diagon Alley to meet friends and invited both Louis and Dominique along. Louis turned them down immediately, saying he needed a night in and that he hated going on out night's like New Year's. Everywhere was crowded and full of people who got pissed out of their minds and didn't know what they were doing. Dominique genuinely mulled the offer over, but ultimately said no. Yes, it would have been a night out of this house, which she desperately needed, but Louis had a point about the crowded places and drunken idiots. Plus, if he was home now, she at least had someone to talk to.

"If you change your mind," Victoire was saying as she put on her cloak. "We'll be at the Dragon's Breath until at least eleven. Maybe later if it's not too crazy. After that, I don't know where we're going."

"I'm going home," Ted said, reaching out to give her shoulders an affectionate squeeze as he stood behind her waiting for her to leave. "I have to work at five in the morning and you seem to be under the impression that I'm making it to midnight."

Victoire looked back at her sister very pointedly. "He's making it to midnight."

"He's not," Ted quipped. "He's going to have a drink or two, but then he'll be in bed by ten."

"Why is he talking about himself in the third person?" Dominique asked, causing Ted to let out a short laugh

"I can't help that I'm superstitious," Victoire said as she turned to open the door, letting cold air suddenly blast Dominique where she stood. "I believe that the person you kiss at midnight on New Year's is the person you're meant to spend the year with." She looked at Ted. "I remember having that conversation with you last year on New Year's. And we kissed at midnight. And we're still together, so..." She made a face as if she'd just provided rock solid evidence to support her claim.

Louis, who'd been in the living room but was now passing toward the kitchen, mumbled, "That's a load of bollocks."

"Well, it only works if you don't go cheating on the person," Victorie snapped back, watching as he disappeared into the kitchen. "Maybe if you weren't kissing other girls and making really shitty decisions, Louis William Weasley!"

"Alright, come on, we're letting the cold in," Ted said, reaching out to grab Victoire's hand. He glanced back at Dominique. "Happy New Year." He then loudly called, "Happy New Year, Lou."

"You too," Dominique said, shutting the door behind the both of them once they'd left. It was now just she and Louis, and he'd decided he wanted to listen to a new music album he'd acquired. He'd gone upstairs to find it.

She figured she'd check the Quidditch recap for the end of the Puddlemere and Ballycastle match. She flipped the radio back on and heard a commercial for Spello-Tape right as Louis returned with a vinyl record in his hands. She waved him off when he attempted to switch it on, telling him she wanted to hear the match recap before he took over the radio. He set the vinyl down beside her and the radio and collapsed on the sofa to wait his turn.

"No Nymph Chasers?" she asked, picking up the record that—surprisingly—wasn't by his favorite band. It was second nature for him to put Nymph Chasers on when he was sitting around.

He shook his head. "I'm trying some new stuff."

She looked over at him. She knew immediately that it was because the Nymph Chasers reminded him of Sarah. That band had been the reason they'd come together in the first place due to their shared love of them; they'd probably built a hundred memories around almost all of their songs. Now, they were a painful reminder of a time when he wasn't a prat. Serves him right to have his favorite band tarnished by all of this.

"So, what'd Jack get a tattoo of?" she asked nonchalantly, attempting to not sound too interested in the answer as a commercial for Quidditch gloves played in the background.

"A duck," Louis said.

She pulled a face. "Why?"

"He and his brother have some meaning behind it," Louis said. "His brother got one done at the same time Jack got his. I don't know the whole story. He might have told me, but I was wasted that night so I don't remember."

"Of course you were," Dominique said with a roll of her eyes. "You made it seem so innocent and carefree at dinner, but in reality you were probably drunk or high or attempting to get shagged—"

Louis held up a hand to stop her right there. "Yes, to the first and the second. No, to the third. I barely talked to any girls the entire time I was gone. Some of the other guys were trying, but I didn't."

"You want a gold star for not sticking your bits in some girl?" She reached for her wand and suddenly cast a small spraying of stars and light—almost a mini-firework—out of the tip. "Here, have a few."

"Well, that was unnecessary."

She smirked as she randomly opened the old cupboard that the radio sat on top of. It had always been in her living room for as long as she could remember. It's where her family kept discarded old books and photo albums; trinkets and dusty bored games that weren't meant to see the light of day again. The last few days— in her bored stupor—she had started going through it; seeing if there was anything of value or interest inside. She hadn't found anything yet, but she'd only done the top half. The bottom was still cluttered with rubbish she hadn't explored.

"It was just really nice to be distracted," Louis said, answering a question that no one had asked. "It was nice that no one really giving a fuck who I was, or that I'm some champion, or some bloke from the papers. Just to get away and be nobody."

She hummed, though her attention was half inside the cupboard. Nothing in here had been touched in ages—though she immediately started pulling out the games to see if there was anything of interest inside. A chess set. Chutes and Floo. Witch's Wordplay. She hadn't seen some of these games since she'd left for Hogwarts.

"Are you even listening?" Louis asked, and only then did she realize that he was still talking to her. She looked up and feigned innocent, holding up Witch's Wordplay for him to see.

"Remember this?"

He was staring at her in a half annoyed sort of way, but his attention quickly went to the box in her hand. "You think all the pieces are still in there?"

"Maybe," she said as she tossed the box to the ground before opening it up. There was one game board and a bag full of letter tiles that one had to put together to make words for points. If you spelled out magical words, they would glow certain colors based on the level of points each was worth. As kids, she and her siblings would always strive so hard to get the tiles to turn purple—which awarded the most points you could get.

Before she'd really thought much about it, she was already setting up the game and Louis had moved onto the floor to join her. This seemed fairly appropriate when she thought about it. Bantering with Louis and wasting her time on insignificant things was probably the way she should be ringing in the new year seeing as that was how she spent so much of her time on a regular day. Why change things?

"Remember, you have to pick a tile out of the bag to see who goes first," Louis began to say, though she quickly shushed him when the announcers on the radio suddenly came back talking about something having to do with an unprecedented upset. She leaned closer, even though the room was otherwise silent and she could hear perfectly fine.

" _No one could have seen that remarkable comeback from Ballycastle coming, and if you say you did, you're a liar. They were down by three-hundred and forty points near the halfway point, but somehow managed to not only make up the gap, but also catch the Snitch against—what many say is not only the strongest Puddlemere team in ages, but also one of the strongest collective Quidditch teams in ages. Cather, what do you think happened to Puddlemere that caused them to fall apart at the end?"_

" _Interesting question, Mav. I think it all comes down to—"_

"Did Ballycastle beat Puddlemere?" Louis asked, having pulled out his own letter tile to examine. "Shit, Jack will be thrilled. He was talking about that yesterday. That's big, isn't it?"

Dominique still hadn't picked her jaw up. Puddlemere had lost? They'd actually lost? And to bloody Ballycastle? This was huge. Jack was going to lose his mind. She started to laugh, still completely shocked at what she was hearing. She looked up at Louis. "It's huge. He's going to go absolutely mental. This shakes up so much of the Eastern division." She stood up, suddenly feeling the need to walk or jump or pace around given the weird burst of adrenaline that had hit her.

"I hope he got to listen," Louis said casually, holding up the bag of tiles. "You going to pick one?"

"Why wouldn't he have listened?" Dominique asked as she walked over and put her hand in the bag. She drew out a "U". Louis turned his around and revealed a "T".

"He'd mentioned he wasn't sure he could," he said, readying himself to go first. "He had plans or something. Plus, you know he goes almost full-Muggle when he's home."

Full-Muggle. It was a term Louis had coined for Jack back when they were kids. It meant that he would go home and reassimilate himself into Muggle culture fully in order to blend back in with his family and friends. When they were smaller, it was easier for him since he wasn't allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts anyway, but now that he was an adult, Dominique had to wonder how that even worked. How did he not use magic for everything? But she barely knew anything about being a Muggle. Perhaps it was easier than she thought.

"I think he gets the Prophet," Louis added as he started to lay down the word Doxy, causing the tiles to glow purple straight away given that his X landed on a bonus spot. "So, by morning he'd know."

"I refuse to believe he didn't listen to one of the biggest matches of the season," Dominique said, walking over to examine her own letters. "I'll have lost some respect for him if he did."

"I'd imagine it's harder than you think leading a double life around all those Muggles when no one understands what Quidditch is," Louis said as she played an H and an E off his X to spell Hex. They glowed a modest, low scoring red.

They went back and forth, with Louis coming out strong with words like Centaur and Elixir, though she'd got Crucio and Phoenix in there for some decent points. If Louis would just stop stealing all the bonus spots, she'd have already pulled ahead.

"You done with the radio?" he asked, reaching to grab the record he'd gone to retrieve earlier. She nodded as she attempted to work her Q to fit into a bonus spot next to the A Louis had laid earlier, but she was immediately jolted out of her thoughts once the sound of an angry, screaming noise started pouring out of the radio. This certainly wasn't anything like the Nymph Chasers, and Dominique immediately regretted any negative thing she'd ever said about them if this was Louis' new interest. She made a point to cover her ears and stare at her brother, but he merely smiled and nodded his head. "They're good, right?!"

She shook her head and motioned for him to turn it down, but he was too busy banging his head around in a way that had to be a joke. She instead stood and retreated to the kitchen to escape and get a glass of water. There was no way they were about to listen to that all night.

As she sat at the table, she lowered her hands from her ears and looked up at the clock on the wall. It was only half past nine. Still two and a half hours until midnight. Two and a half hours until she could finally kiss this year goodbye and all the rubbish that had come with it.

She wasn't one for resolutions or clean slates, but she could appreciate that a new year meant allowing herself to try again. Davies had been a mistake, but she was leaving him in this year, never to be thought of again. She had new people to think about, and perhaps this year would open up more opportunities for that. Not to mention, Quidditch was going to start getting really serious now that it was the second term. Then, of course, her exams. After that came graduation and the end of Hogwarts. This was going to truly be a year of change.

There was a knock—or rather a pounding—at the door. Dominique looked up from her glass of water and glanced out of the kitchen and into the front foyer. The idea of someone pounding on her door at half past nine gave her pause since nothing good ever came from pounding. Louis' music seemed to have drowned out the noises for him as she noticed no movement from the living room. The pounding returned, only faster this time.

She couldn't see anything outside from the kitchen, but she was suddenly very afraid that it was Davies again. Not that she was afraid of him, but she was afraid of the confrontation that would have to occur if it was him. Would he have been so stupid as to come by after what her father had said to him? Lately, he seemed brazen enough to attempt to show on a night like New Year's Eve to talk to her.

"Is someone knocking?" asked Louis, appearing in the entryway to the living room and catching her eye in the kitchen.

"Yes, but you need to answer it," she said, nodding toward the door. "If it's Davies, tell him to fuck off. I don't want to see him."

"He's not still coming around, is he?" Louis asked as he pulled his wand out. "Didn't you say dad told him off? How does he know dad isn't home?"

Dominique shrugged as the pounding continued once more. Louis walked over and checked out the nearest window. Whatever he saw made him drop his wand and start to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Before anyone says it (because someone always does) YES, I know Victoire's birthday is actually in May. I KNOW. Every time I bring up her birthday it comes up, and-go figure-her birthday is the one that comes up most often in my stories. This Victoire's birthday is in December, because I started this way back before JKR let us know when her birthday actually was. And anyone who's read "AYitL" knows that I focus much of the first part of the story around her December birthday; it was too late to change. So yes, I know. I know. It's the one detail I will forever ignore. :)


	20. Cyu

Louis put his wand away and opened the door. "Didn't I just get rid of you?"

"When are you ever really rid of me?" came Jack's voice, causing Dominique to sit up with a jolt. He came into view a moment later still bundled up from the cold with a jacket and a knit cap on his head. He was smiling and had a very bouncy energy about him as he pulled his hat off, not realizing she was standing nearby. "Is it just you here? Where's Nic?"

Louis pointed to her and had just begun to say, "She's—" but Jack cut him off as soon as he saw her.

"How about those Bats?!"

She laughed into her water.

"Can you believe it!?" he practically yelled, grinning from ear to ear as he immediately stepped toward her. "You should have seen me at the end. My folks had people over—some neighbors—and I was listening through this little handheld radio with headphones. I yelled so loud when the Snitch got caught that I'm fairly convinced they now all think I'm off my head." He shrugged. "Though, they may already have thought that since I was always the weird one who made shit happen that no one could explain."

She grinned at him. He was talking very fast. It was something she'd noticed over the summer that he did after a couple of drinks.

"But it's not as if I could explain myself. My parents would understand, but the rest of them…" He trailed off, still smiling as if he'd personally won the bloody match himself. "I had to talk to someone. By someone, I mean you." He took a breath and cracked a smile. "Hi, by the way."

"Hi," she said. "We were wondering if you'd managed to listen. Lou said he wasn't sure if you went full-Muggle or—"

He made a face. "Full-Muggle or not, I wasn't missing this. You know me better than that."

"I do, but I know wizard you. Not Muggle you."

"Muggle me is becoming harder and harder to find these days," he said as he started to take off his jacket and turn onto Louis. "What are you two even doing?" He paused as if stopping to listen for something. "What the fuck is that noise?"

"New band I'm checking out," Louis said. "They're called Vraa."

Jack blinked at him before mumbling a highly uninterested, "Alright, then." He tossed his jacket aside and turned back to Dominique. "What are you up to?"

"Currently avoiding the sounds of Vraa." She shrugged. "We're also— rather pathetically— spending our evening playing Witch's Wordplay."

Jack was now looking at her with an expression that said he had no idea what that was. She set her glass down and led him straight into the living room—stopping first to turn Louis' music down—before showing him the game that sat on the floor. He stared at it for a moment, seemingly examining it very thoroughly, before saying, "It's Scrabble."

"What?" Dominique looked over at Louis, who shrugged as if he had no idea what that meant either.

"It's Scrabble," Jack repeated, looking back at her. "You're playing Scrabble."

"No, we're playing Witch's Wordplay."

"Ok, whatever it's called," he said, glancing between the pair of them, "you two are spending New Year's Eve playing it. Seems a bit dull."

"Mate, we've just had a few long nights without much sleep," Louis said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Shit, I've had some long weeks. I was actually looking for a quiet night. Where'd you get the bloody energy to be out, let alone half in the bag?"

"I took a nap," he said as if it were obvious. "I had plans to listen to the match and then go out with some cousins, but then the match got good and I had a few drinks because—" He made a gesture with his arms to say, " _why not?"_ "And then I wanted to talk about it, so here I am." He looked at Dominique. "You understand."

She nodded a little to say she did, and while she was obviously impressed by the win from a Quidditch standpoint, she wasn't over the moon about it like a true fan would be. If he'd been looking for a party and a celebration to match his excitement, he'd gone looking in the wrong place. He probably would have had more luck going to Ballycastle and wandering the streets. That being said, she could appreciate it. She could talk about it. And if it meant he'd hang out for a bit so she could spend some time with him, she could easily put in the effort.

"Well, I wish I was half as awake as you are," Louis said as he leaned over and turned his music back up. "But I didn't get to nap since I came home to a house full of family and a dinner I had to sit through, so—" He made a face as if to say that if Jack had plans, to count him out.

"You've gotten soft," Jack said to him before his face screwed up into annoyance now that the music was loud. "Mate, this shit you're listening to sounds like dying cats in a blender."

"I don't know what a blender is," he said, reaching out to turn the music up even louder, "but I assume it makes amazing music like these blokes do."

"This isn't music," Jack shouted over the noise, "this is metal scraps being dragged on the pavement while some bloke yodels with his mouth full of glass."

"That's actually the title of their album."

He got a laugh out of everyone at that, though Dominique stepped forward and immediately pulled his record off. Louis booed her as she flung it like a discus toward the sofa.

"No," she said.

"You know, you can both piss right off," Louis muttered, already turning to walk off toward the kitchen. Over his shoulder he called back, "Jack, how long are you staying?"

"I dunno," he called back as he sat on the sofa, watching her as she settled back down on the floor in front of her board game. "For a bit, I guess." He lowered his voice. "Unless you're looking to get rid of me so you can get back to your game night."

"I'm not," she said, glancing up at him and catching his eye. He smiled at her and it was almost amusing how different his demeanor became once Louis was out of the room. There was a casual, goofiness he'd had with Louis, but it was absent when she and he were together. He seemed to be immediately refocusing his energy and toning himself down.

"Have a good holiday?" he asked her, scooting over a bit on the sofa toward her.

"Yeah, it was fine," she said rather bluntly as she went back to sorting through the game tiles. "Not as eventful as yours, apparently."

"The last few days have been…" He was rubbing his face. "I still don't quite understand how it happened. One minute we're sitting around my house talking about walking to get some pizza and the next we're in a van driving down the coast."

"Louis was saying something like that," she said, absently studying each tile that she pulled out of the bag. "Lots of sex, drugs, and music."

She'd glanced over at him, noticing that his face dropped right off. "I didn't…Who had sex? I definitely didn't. And he didn't. Between the breakup and him being hung up on that girl from the tournament, he couldn't be bothered. I wasn't interested." His face suddenly screwed itself up into confusion. "What did he tell you happened?"

She smirked. "I'm just taking the piss," she said, just as her brother shouted from the kitchen, "Nic, will you eat some of this macaroni stuff if I warm it up?"

"No, I'm not hungry," she called back, her eyes returning to Jack. She let herself muster a pinched smile. "Well, anyway. I'm glad you and Louis had a good time. Really. I am."

Her tone hadn't been the least bit convincing, not that she's tried at all to make it that way. The truth was, while she understood her brother just wanted some time with his friend and they'd got caught up in some wild adventure, she'd felt completely left out. There was no one she was closer to than her brother, and then Jack was—well, he was so many different things to her right now—but they were close as well. They were both probably the two closest people to her at the moment and they'd gone and left her in the dust because she lacked a penis. And she didn't want a penis, she just hated that it was apparently a deciding factor. They could have gone and been dumb boys for a day and then resurfaced. Had they really needed days? Had they really needed to blow her off the entire time?

Jack took a deep breath. "I wanted to see you. Louis was stuck on the whole lads' thing. And it'd been a while since I'd done anything like that with him or got to spend time with my brother." He shrugged. "Everyone's so busy."

She looked away. "I get it. Doesn't mean it didn't suck that the only two people that were even around for the holidays went off with each other and I—"

"I know," Jack interrupted. "I'm sorry."

"And it's Louis' fucking fault Sarah's didn't come home," she muttered in a low whisper, finally getting to say the words out loud to someone who would actually understand where she was coming from. "He's the one who fucked up, but yet Sarah's left to wallow at school, I'm left here bored out of my mind, and you—well, you made out alright, didn't you?"

He didn't say anything to that. He just continued to stare at her in a sympathetic sort of way.

"And yeah, obviously Louis being around makes my life easier since we keep each other entertained, but—" she hesitated for only a brief moment, but she was on a roll so there was no reason to hold back. She might as well tell him she was disappointed she hadn't gotten to see him until tonight. "I'd also hoped I'd get to—"

She stopped once Louis reappeared with a large plate full of food in one hand and three empty glasses that he was pinching between his fingers in the other. After all that meal skipping, he'd apparently gotten his appetite back with a vengeance.

"I left everything out if you change your mind on the food," he said, walking straight over to Jack and stopping in front of him. He motioned for him to take the glasses. "Hold."

He took them and they both watched as Louis set his plate down on the sofa before crossing the room and going straight into the cupboard where their parents kept all of their wine and alcohol. He was busying himself for a moment before he pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey, read the label, and then proceeded to walk back over to Jack. He gestured for the glasses back.

"You think dad's not going to notice you're drinking his stuff?" Dominique asked.

"I don't care, I'll buy him more," he said absently, examining the shot he'd poured into the glass before handing it off to her. "Ladies first."

She took it, though she wasn't particularly in the mood to drink. It was easier to sip it and hold it rather than tell Louis otherwise. Especially if he'd already had it in his head that this was what was going to happen.

"I feel like I've already had enough," Jack said as Louis handed him the second glass. "I was drinking before I came over."

"I could tell," Louis again said as he poured a shot into the third glass. "But why stop now? Celebrate your little Quidditch win—"

"It was not little."

"—and ring in the New Year," Louis said, holding up his glass as if to toast. "Cheers."

Despite his weak protest, Jack didn't seem to need a lot of convincing as he and Louis both went to drink theirs down in quick gulps. Dominique watched them both with a raised eyebrow, though she focused on her brother. "It's hours from the new year. Why are we toasting the New Year already?"

"Because why not?" he said as he refilled his and Jack's glasses before he wandered over to where he'd set down his plate of food. "What else do you want to toast to? By the way, it's rude to not drink when someone makes a toast."

"I think the new year will forgive me for my rudeness," she said dryly, "But weren't you taking it easy tonight? You said you were going to bed early and not drinking?"

He shrugged. "Changed my mind. Jack's a bad influence."

Jack made a face as if to say he hadn't suggested a bloody thing and not to put this on him, but this was typical of the two of them when they got together. They'd been like this since they were eleven. Always throwing the other under the bus for a laugh and trying to blame any and all of their bad habits on each other. It was a tale as old as time when it came to their friendship.

They eventually got back onto the subject of Quidditch, and Jack began giving her a detailed recap of the match between Ballycastle and Puddlemere from the point where she had stopped listening. It was actually amazing to listen to him recall the details in a way that only someone who cared too much could do; it made her feel at times that she was actually listening to the play by play of everything that had happened. He seemed to remember everything—though he did focus a lot on the Beaters' actions more than a regular recap would. She'd regretted turning the match off once she thought Puddlemere had the game won because it sounded as if she really should have listened all the way through.

At one point, as Jack was talking about the Snitch catch and arguably the best part, Dominique glanced over and saw that Louis had put his head back and drifted off to sleep; he was still even holding his half full glass of Firewhiskey. It seemed the exhaustion of the last few days, the alcohol, and him probably being bored with the Quidditch talk had hit him hard in the last few minutes.

Jack had looked, too, now smirking. He immediately got up, plucked up a few uneaten grapes that Louis had left on his plate, and then proceeded to start lobbing him in the face with them. It had taken him three to cause Louis to finally stir.

"What the…?" he muttered, blinking and in a half awake daze. He noticed a grape having landed on his shirt, which immediately caused him to throw Jack a look. "You're a git." He tossed the grape back at him.

"Usually the first person to fall asleep gets it much worse," Jack offered. "You know the rules."

Louis stood, shaking another grape off as he did as he collected his glass and plate and headed toward the kitchen. "I do. But I can't help that you're both so bloody boring when you get this in depth into Quidditch."

"You were playing Scrabble on New Years Eve and you're going to call someone else boring?" Jack called after him. "Seriously?"

"Witch's Wordplay!" Louis shouted back, his voice carrying from where he'd already disappeared into the kitchen.

They both smirked at that, though she couldn't help but add, "I guess I'm extra boring because I'm into Wordplay and Quidditch."

"You're not boring," Jack said. "No, we're blaming Louis for everything right now. It's all Louis' fault."

She laughed, watching as Louis reappeared in the room and walked straight over to the sofa. He picked up his record that Dominique had tossed there earlier and threw them both a look as if to say he was off to enjoy this on his own. "I'm going to listen to my music and go to bed."

"Next time save your money," Dominique offered. "If you're into obnoxious noise, I would have been happy to bang shit upside your head for free."

"Oh, if I'm looking for obnoxious noise, I know where to find you," he quipped back, adding a quick, "And a happy new year," before heading toward the stairs.

"What happened to the Nymph Chasers?" Jack asked, taking his glass and sliding off of the sofa to sit opposite of her on the other side of the board game.

"I think it's because it reminds him of Sarah," she said, watching as he sat where Louis had been earlier and was now picking through the letter tiles he'd left behind.

He nodded sympathetically as if he suddenly understood, just as the sounds of Vraa now drifted down from the second story. They both looked at each other, but she couldn't help but think that at least it was muffled this time. She reached over to the radio and flipped it on and fumbled with the dial for a few seconds until she found some actual music.

She couldn't help but now be acutely aware that it was just the two of them. Up until that moment, she hadn't realized how strange it was for the two of them to be alone together in her house, seeing as it had never happened before. Louis being present was the norm around here; their common connection. He was why Jack ever came over or spent any time here. She and him could be alone at Quidditch or the common room; but under this roof it was completely uncharted territory.

Jack was putting letters down on the board to spell out random words just because he could. Car. Pie. Bum. Wand. Wand suddenly lit up red, which gave him a start. He was blinking at the board as if he'd done something wrong before he looked up at her a little mystified.

"If you play a magical word, it glows and you get extra points," she said, taking some random tiles and suddenly spelling out 'Doxy', just as Louis had before. It glowed purple and Jack actually gaped. "You can play any word, but the magical ones are considered the Witch's words. It's why it's called Witch's Wordplay."

"This isn't Scrabble."

"Does Scrabble not glow?" she asked as she sipped on her drink.

"It does not," he said with a laugh as he went through the bag of letters and started pulling them out to spell any magical word he could think of. Charm. Hex. Floo. Spell. Snitch. Broom. He seemed rather amused to watch them all light up.

"We could play an actual game if you want," she offered after watching him for a few minutes.

"After the last few drinks, I feel like I'd be pretty rubbish at that right now," he said as he began putting tiles down to spell the word 'tits'. It made him laugh in a very adolescent boy sort of way. "It didn't glow."

"It's not a magical word."

"Says you."

She rolled her eyes, but still smiled at him. Even when he'd had one too many drinks and was making stupid jokes that only he in his half drunk state would find funny, she found herself completely taken with him. She actually rather enjoyed him after a few drinks because he tended to be looser and more talkative. It was a nice change of pace from his usual buttoned up, quieter persona. Granted, if he drank anymore, he would end up full circle and shut himself up tight like a vault, but this was the sweet spot where she found him particularly adorable.

He looked up and caught her staring. And it hadn't been just a casual glance, she'd been staring at him while smiling in a goofy sort of way. She hadn't had time to straighten herself out before he'd noticed, but she immediately looked away and gulped down her drink.

"Are you still planning on going out tonight?" she asked, standing to go and get herself another drink, more for something to do rather than wanting it.

"Uh," he said, still aimlessly searching through the letters. "I don't think I should be Apparating anywhere right now, if I'm honest."

"You should stay, then," she said after she'd set the bottle back and returned to her spot. "You know you can. And it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Yeah, maybe." He watched her as she settled back down. "I don't want to keep you up or anything."

She laughed. "This," she gestured to the game, "is the most eventful night I've had since I've been home. And I wish I was kidding."

He smiled at her in the sweet but reserved sort of way which he was still apparently good at even if he was a little drunk. "I spent a lot of time thinking about you."

"Did you?" she asked as her heart gave a quick start. She took a drink out of reflex.

He was nodding but still looking at tiles. "I came over tonight because I wanted to see you. And not just because of the Ballycastle thing, which, that was part of it. But I think that's the point. I can talk to you about that and everything else. You're the first person I wanted to see." He took a deep breath. "So, I came over."

"I'm glad you did," she said quietly, staring at the brown liquid in her glass.

"Are you?" he asked as he set the bag of tiles down.

She looked at him and noticed he was watching her face very intently. She knew what he was asking. That was a very weighted question. They were so very clearly in this strange gray area between friendship and more that it was hard to really tell where they stood. She knew he was attempting to feel her out for where her head was.

She nodded. "Yeah. I wanted to see you."

He nodded and looked back down at the board. That answer apparently hadn't sold him on anything, but he evidently wasn't going to question it. Her answer had clearly been vague enough to go either way, and she knew it as soon as she'd said it. Maybe she'd even done it on purpose so as to not expose too much. She had no idea why she was holding back now. That kiss in his room had not been subtle. Why couldn't she actually say it? Spit it out.

She suddenly gulped down the rest of her second drink and reached forward for the bag of letter tiles. She began purposefully searching through them for specific letters. Jack had turned to fiddle with the radio nearby, stopping on an uptempo song that she'd never heard before.

She found the last of the letters she'd been looking for and began putting them on the board. She never wanted to hear anyone say she didn't make grand gestures or that she wasn't capable of such a thing. This was about as grand as she was capable of.

"I haven't heard this song in ages," Jack said as he turned back to watch what she was doing.

She pulled the board closer to her and threw him a look as if to say not to look. "Not yet."

"Why are you hiding it?" he asked, laughing as he attempted to peek.

She shielded it before finally finishing up and, with a heavy breath, immediately sat back. She looked up and realized it was upside down to him so she flipped it around so he could read it. There it was. She may not be able to say it, but she could write it. Now, she just held her breath.

Before him—written as one long word, since the board was still littered with all of his random words from earlier—she'd written 'Ifancyu.' She was suddenly terrified because she watched him read it. She could see him doing it right in front of her and there was no taking that back. No 'just kidding', nothing but laying everything out on that bloody board for him to read.

But he wasn't saying anything. In fact, he looked confused.

She took a heavy breath again. Fuck. With each passing second she was regretting this decision more and more. She should have stayed quiet. She should have just let it go. She easily could have probably taken her feelings to the grave if she'd just tried. After graduation, she'd probably barely see him again anyway. It would have eventually passed. Why didn't she just wait it out?

"What's a 'cyu'?" he finally asked.

"What's a...what?"

"A 'cyu,'" he repeated, pointing at the board before reciting, "If an cyu. I don't get it."

She stared at him for a long moment, not entirely sure what to say to that. She looked back at the board and then back at him. "Seriously?" She reached down and pulled tiles off; separating the I and the U from the rest of the word, which she should have apparently done from the get go. "I assumed you could read."

"I can read. I just don't know what a 'cyu'' is because I don't know every wizarding—" He stopped when he saw her corrected phrase. That had done it. He'd gotten the message that time.

"Yeah," she said. "That."

When he finally did look up, he seemed surprised. He stared at her, but just briefly before he'd looked back down. He wasn't saying anything and she was starting to feel awkward at being so exposed. She might actually get up and walk out of the room if he didn't say something in the next second.

While he didn't speak, he did take a deep breath through his nose and spun the board back around to face her. He'd randomly picked up one of the Ts from the tits he'd put down earlier and plucked the Os off of Floo. He put them after the U. He'd written 'too.'

He was grinning at her, which immediately made her do the same. This was almost too corny for her to bear, but she also found herself caught up in the sweet nature of the moment. She wasn't even sure how it had come to a board game on the floor of her living room to finally let it out, but here it was. It wasn't a secret anymore. They had both caught feelings.

"Cyu," he muttered to himself, laughing as he said it. "I'm an idiot."

She grinned. "You said it, not me."

"Wait, so, at the Trials," he began. "There was this night when I said something—I can't even remember what—but you seemed upset. I then had a very drunk Erin and Zara explaining to me that it was my fault because you fancied me. Does it go that far back?"

She nodded her head.

He laughed out of disbelief. "I thought they were full of shit. But when I heard it, it got me thinking, 'what if?' and 'maybe?' because I'd have never thought you would ever…" He trailed off. "Before I knew it, I was interested, too, but you were back with Davies and it all seemed like a joke. I mean, why would you have told Erin or Zara something like that?"

"I actually told Durrin or Annabelle, one of them, and it stupidly got back to them." She made a face. "We all did weird stuff at the Trials. That place wasn't real life."

"It was not," he agreed as they let their gazes fall on each other. They shared a small smile as a quiet fell over them. He had such a kind and inviting face, especially when he smiled. She could never convey that sort of warmth in a single look—even if she were on fire.

"You couldn't ever kiss your best friend's sister," she said at random, cutting through the silence. He stared at her blankly, as if he had no idea what that was supposed to mean, so she elaborated. "That's what you said that night at the Trials. What upset me and caused Erin and Zara to run their mouths. You said before that you couldn't remember."

He was nodding slowly, evidently remembering. "Right...I did. But I didn't mean that. I mean, I did—about Victoire. Not about you."

She shrugged. "At the time, it sounded like you did."

Right then, he reached forward and slid the board game that was in between them aside, leaning quickly forward and planting his lips on hers. She could taste the leftover Firewhiskey lingering in his mouth as she eagerly kissed him back. She reached up and grabbed the side of his head to pull him closer.

"Guess I'm full of shit," he mumbled into her mouth, but she silenced him immediately. It had been a long couple of weeks and she needed this. They could talk later.

They'd just started to ramp the kissing up harder–her attempting to figure out how to maneuver them up onto the sofa–when the sounds of footsteps on the stairs made them both stop cold. Jack broke away just before Louis appeared around the corner; both of them had to have looked conspicuously red-faced.

"Hey, Nic," Louis said, apparently none the wiser to what had been happening seconds before. "Did mum move my potion? I want to sleep, but I can't find it." He looked down and saw the board game's tiles now sloppily scattered around the floor. "What happened?"

"Accident," Jack mumbled as Dominique said, "Kicked the board. Anyway, did you check the cabinet in the bathroom? I saw it there yesterday."

"Obviously. It wasn't there."

"Yes. It. Is," she said hastily. Bloody hell, could he please leave and go find what he needed?

"I'm telling you. They're not there." He looked around. "I wonder if there's any in-"

She stood then and, without a word, practically marched up the stairs. She was down the corridor and into the bathroom in the next minute, opening the cabinet and moving a few boxes and bottles around. She'd found the extra supply of his potions within seconds. Did he even look?

When she'd come back out, she found Louis standing nearby, having just come up the stairs. His face lit up when he saw what she was holding, mumbling something about how he must have somehow missed it. She glared at him as she held it out to him.

"You're the best," he said with a smile; one she did not return. He'd begun walking toward his room and offered a quick goodnight.

"You are going to sleep, right?"

He threw her an odd expression, as if that was a weird question, but said nothing as he snapped his door shut behind him. She really would have appreciated an answer to that.

She sighed. Time to refocus. Hopefully all was not lost and the mood was not killed entirely because she really wanted to continue what they'd been up to downstairs. She walked over top of the stairs, only to find that Jack had apparently come up on his own. He was on the second to top step.

"Everything alright?" he asked, glancing down at Louis' closed door. "Did you find–?"

She nodded. "Yeah, right where I said they were. He's gone to sleep."

"Oh." He glanced up and down the corridor. "That's..."

"Do you want to hang out up here?" she asked, gesturing to her room. "We could…? In there?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Sure."

That had been easy. She smiled, now entirely too excited to get this back on track. "Great. Well, then." She made a gesture for him to go on ahead. "I'll be right there. I'm just going to…" She pointed to the bathroom.

He'd nodded, stepping toward her room while she split away and went straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she turned on the lights and caught herself in the mirror; immediately feeling that she needed to brush her hair.

She picked up the brush and began brushing her hair out. Ages. She'd been waiting ages for this opportunity and now it was happening. Fuck, he was cute. And he was a good kisser. And he felt good pressed up against her. And she was well aware of how fit he looked with his shirt off and how nice his arms were. She had to stop herself from wanting to jump up and down right there.

She'd fantasized about this and played it out a hundred different ways. While she had a moment of clarity, she needed to think about how far she'd be willing to take this. Did she set a boundary? Did she just go with the flow? Would she shag him if things went that way? She'd never been one for following conventional rules about waiting a certain amount of time or needing things to be a particular way. She did what felt good; she did what she wanted in the moment—fuck what people thought. If he wanted it too, then why not? This was Jack. He wasn't some stranger she barely knew. They were best friends. She knew him backwards and forward. And soon enough, hopefully inside and out.

She took a deep, calming breath; feeling a little buzzed from the two shots of Firewhiskey. She had to relax. _See where things go_ , she thought. After all, Jack seemed a little more conventional and romantic; maybe he wasn't looking to do anything straight away. He and Whit went ages before they'd done anything. She could be getting ahead of herself for even thinking about this, but she couldn't help it. She knew once they got into it, she would throw all reason out the window if things felt good. It explained why she and Davies lasted as long as they did.

With one more deep breath, she walked back into her room and found Jack sitting on her bed, flipping through one of the Quidditch magazines she'd left out. He'd also taken off his shoes, which she found a little funny. His head was clearly somewhere. He looked up and immediately tossed the magazine to the side as she shut the door behind her, making sure to lock it. The clock read ten past eleven. She hoped that her parents were having a good time celebrating the New Year; that they had no intention of returning early.

The sounds of Vraa were still coming from Louis' room. Unlike earlier, she was actually happy it was loud. Their shared wall wasn't particularly thick and she'd heard plenty of noise coming through it over the years. She'd definitely heard his bed squeaking on repeat when Sarah had been over in the past.

"Hey," he said, smiling at her as she walked over. He'd reached out to grab her hand and pulled her toward him. He looked particularly handsome right now; everything about him was perfect. The way he looked at her—that look did it. It did things to her. She knew then that she'd smash him in a heartbeat if he was willing. She'd be an idiot if she didn't. She didn't want to be an idiot. Who wants to be an idiot?

"Hey," she said, returning the smile and letting herself be pulled into another kiss. The second she put her weight on the bed, it gave out a squeak that grabbed her attention fully. She pulled away from him and made a face. "So, the bed is loud," she then gestured to the wall, "and that wall is very thin."

"Oh," he said, obviously following where she was going with this. "I can, um…" He stood up and pulled out his wand. For the briefest of seconds, she was reminded of the time she'd seen Davies—or even Stuart that one time—cast a protection spell to prevent all the different things that could happen during sex. Even though Jack was casting a muffling charm, her mind had already gone there and she realized how fine she was with it. She was more than fine with it. She was already anticipating it.

She sat down to watch as he attempted it twice, having fumbled the phrasing the first go around. She made a mental note that if they did have sex, she needed to cast _that_ spell. He smirked at her once he noticed she'd seen him screw it up the first time. "It's a tricky spell."

"Sure it is. Tell you what, I'll handle any other spells."

He sat back down beside her and was already leaning in to kiss her once more–though stopped to ask, "What other spells are we going to need?"

"Just...I don't know. Other spells," she said, meeting him the rest of the way and kissing him to silence the rest of this conversation. They picked things up exactly where they'd left off downstairs, only this time she knew–for once–they would not be interrupted. They kissed for several minutes before she finally pulled him down with her onto her bed as she lined up with her pillows.

She had her hands in his hair–it was so soft–and he had his traveling up and down her back and up into her hair as their kissing got more and more heated. Minutes or hours passed–she had no idea–but they were full on proper snogging for a good while before the privacy of her quiet room and locked doors started to make them both braver.

The kissing became more of the devouring variety and less of the sweet, playful kind. He was more aggressive than she'd have pegged him for, and she immediately wondered how much of that was due to the alcohol in his system or how much was just natural for him. He evidently enjoyed controlling the flow of things as he started kissing her neck and letting his hands roam freely now. Though, over their layers of jumpers and t-shirts, it wasn't achieving much.

"Hey," she said once he'd gone to her neck once more and freed up her mouth. "Is it true you got a tattoo?"

He hummed into his neck as if to say yes.

"Where is it?"

"On my arm."

"Can I see it?"

He sat up and was already pulling his jumper over his head an actual second after she'd asked. He had the jumper, and the shirt he'd had on underneath, tossed off to the side in record time before adding, "You can see whatever you want."

"Can I?" She smiled at him, mostly because she was more than enjoying the view as he sat in front of her.

He hummed again in a way that clearly alluded to the fact that he meant it, but she wasn't in a hurry. She could wait it out a bit as they went back to kissing once again. She started to feel herself get a very pleasant sort of achiness throughout her body as she ran her hands down his arms and back. He was pulling at the hem of her jumper and she didn't hesitate to let him pull it over her head. She wanted him to touch her and she found all of these stupid clothes incredibly cumbersome at the moment.

"So, where is it?" she asked as she escaped from her top, shaking her hair out as she tossed it to the floor. "The tattoo."

He turned the inside of his left bicep out to her and sure enough, there was a small duck about two inches around. She examined it for a moment, taking in that–while it was nice in a simple sort of way–his arms made anything look good. They were already going to be an issue for her since they were her favorite part; his just did things for her.

She could sense Jack watching her in a way as if waiting for the go ahead to continue what they'd been up to a moment before. When she finally looked back, she said, "I have questions, but I don't feel like asking them now."

"I don't feel like answering them now," he said, already moving himself back into place and putting his mouth on hers. Just in the way he kissed her, she could feel that he'd wanted this as much as she did. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. And while she'd been with people who wanted her, this was different. He didn't just want her physically, he had feelings for her. It felt different this time because it was. She'd never been with anyone who wanted everything about her; that changed everything.

Things went quickly after that. Hands were exploring and touching and rubbing. He'd kissed his way down to her shoulder and pushed her bra straps down to the point where they fell down her arm, but she'd been the one to actually pull the bloody thing off. It had been after he'd actually finally copped a feel of her breasts that she was willing to take whatever she needed off.

Once the bra was gone and he'd gotten his hands—and soon his mouth—comfortable enough to make her really feel the anticipation, she was past the point of no return. She was officially so turned on she could feel the pulsing down below and she needed him to take care of that. It was a good thing they'd done the charm because there were more noises and heavy breathing than she'd anticipated when they'd come up here for a snog, but she was never one to beat around the bush. She wanted him. That was all there was to it.

"Take off your trousers," she whispered as she reached down and weakly attempted to pull at them herself.

"You sure?" he asked, though as he said it, he already had one hand on his belt and was fumbling with it.

She was nodding. "I've wanted this for a long time."

He started working on his belt and undoing the buckled part. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since the Trials. We shared a room for a fucking week and at any point I could have climbed out of my bed and into yours and we could have done..." He finally worked himself out of his trousers, leaving nothing left but his boxer shorts, "this."

"I wish you would have," she said as she pulled at her own trousers, though he helped pull them off completely. She kicked them off and was relieved she'd put acceptable knickers that morning and not the goofy, big ones she's sometimes wore when she wasn't anticipating anyone seeing them. "We could have done this every night."

He was on top of her kissing her again. The weight of his body was so comfortable and balanced that she didn't worry for a moment he was going to overpower her. "Why did we wait so long?"

"Because we're stupid," she said into his mouth. "Bloody fucking idiots."

He lowered himself down beside her and, while kissing her, gingerly began running his hand up and down her bare stomach. She knew this move; she knew it well. If he didn't move his hand down and help relieve this intense pressure building in her, she was going to have to do it for him.

She reached down and gave him a guiding push to let him know she was fine with this, which thankfully was all that he needed to get the hint. She let him pull her last remaining piece of clothing off to make it easier and inhaled sharply after a minute or so of him figure himself out down there. She let herself enjoy the feelings of his fingers rubbing against her quicker and quicker.

"Don't stop," she managed to murmur, feeling herself building closer and closer to coming. She took a moment to reach down the front of his pants and grab him because she wanted to make him feel as good as he was making her feel. He was as hard as she'd anticipated and she let herself pull up and down a few times, which seemed well received given his small groan. She wanted to go further; do more, but she was so close to coming that she stopped to let her body react. Even having an orgasm felt better when you truly fancied the person giving it to you. She arched her back and grabbed onto her bed sheet and let the deep, throaty noises escape her.

She went back to kissing him as soon as she'd finished—or perhaps ravishing him would have been more apt. Her hands went back in his pants and began tugging both at him with one hand and then at his boxers to come off with the other. She would have honestly let him do whatever he wanted to her right now, but he seemed content kissing and having himself played with.

"Do you want to…?" she asked, looking up at him with all the intentions and energy she had in her as she continued to jerk at him, building up speed. "I could finish you off or we could…?"

He was making a face as if he was concentrating more on what was building inside of him rather than any conversation they could be having. "I want what you want."

"I want you."

He was closing his eyes, and she assumed he was bracing himself to come. He managed a breathless sounding, "I want you, too."

She slid herself over and it was such a quick change of movement and body parts once he was on top of her, she let go of him and positioned herself to let him guide himself inside of her. She could feel the tip of him about to enter when she remembered the charm and pulled herself out of the moment to begin aimlessly reaching for her wand. He helped and grabbed it first, handing it to her as she cast the spells she needed to, and then tossed it well across the room. He used his arms to support himself, and she braced herself for what it would feel like to experience this whole new side to him as he worked himself in.

This was happening. They were having sex. Jack—who'd she'd helped learn to play Quidditch; who was her brother's best friend; who this time last year, she wasn't even speaking to—was now inside of her, building up a rhythm, and looking sexy doing it as she gazed up at him. His breaths were heavy, and she let herself enjoy how good it felt as he clearly began building himself closer and closer.

She's already almost had him there before, he had to be close already. She'd gotten hers and wanted to make him feel as good as he'd made her feel, so she tilted her hips to give him better positioning and put her hands on his hips to guide him. She watched as his face strained as if he was about to come, going faster and faster now before he inhaled sharply and mumbled a quiet, "I'm gonna..." He'd completely tensed up and she felt one last, hard thrust before he'd tapered off and let his head fall. It's thumped onto her shoulder.

"Fuck," he said.

"That we did."

He laughed a little as he let his body rest comfortably on top of her; his head still on her shoulder. She felt him kiss it a few times before he rolled over and looked over at her. "You make the sexiest faces when you're in it. Surprised I went as long as I did when you looked at me like that."

She grinned as she turned to face him, letting herself rub his arm. "It's your fault. You're really good with your hands."

He wasted no time kissing her again. She was starting to wonder just how much time he'd need to be ready to go once more when she suddenly heard footsteps. Footsteps were walking up the stairs.

She froze. He froze, having obviously heard them too. They looked at each other but said nothing. It was almost amazing how all the air could be sucked out of a room at a moment's notice. A minute ago, she'd felt powerful and caught entirely up in the moment—as if she were a different, sexier person. Now she was back to herself and she had a feeling Jack was too based on the way they were now exchanging panicked looks.

"What on Earth is that noise?" came her father's voice out in the hallway. "Which one of you is listening to that?"

"Shit," Jack mouthed, barely a whisper as he looked around for where he could go.

"Door's locked and he's talking about Louis' music," she whispered, though she was unsure why she was whispering. "You did the charm. He can't hear us."

"Did I do it right?"

"Why wouldn't you have done it right?"

He looked alarmed and as if he didn't know. At the same time, a knock came at her door that startled her and made her inhale quickly. She was completely starkers with a naked boy in her bed and all that separated her father from knowing that was a door. Jack took the opportunity to slide off the bed and start searching for his trousers.

"Nic, are you awake?" asked her father. "Is it you or Lou playing that noise?"

"It's Louis," she called back, testing whether or not her father could actually hear her. Jack looked at her as if she was insane, though when her father didn't answer and proceeded to knock on Louis' door, she assumed the charm had worked.

"Hey, Lou, you've got to turn that off. We can hear it down below."

She glanced over at Jack and watched him pull his trousers on. She raised her hand in a calming manner, as if silently telling him not to panic. She had a plan. She stood and grabbed what she assumed was her shirt, but soon realized after she'd pulled it over her head and it went down past her bum that it was Jack's. It smelled like him. It was a plain grey shirt and she owned her fair share of boys t-shirts—especially to sleep in—so her father would never be any wiser.

She walked over to open the door and Jack nearly had a heart attack. His expression screamed, " _What are you doing?!"_

She threw him a look to tell him to relax.

He pointed to her and mouthed, "That's my shirt!"

Again, she said nothing but attempted to silently tell him to calm down. She took a deep breath before pulling the door open. Her father was standing between her and her brother's room. He looked at her as she poked her head out and rubbed her eyes, feigning being sleepy. "What's wrong? What time is it?"

"Nearly one," he said before immediately following with, "You can't hear that noise coming out of your brother's room?

"Oh, I can," she muttered. "He's been listening to it all night."

"How are you sleeping, then?"

She shrugged. "Got used to it."

He reached over and pounded on Louis' door again. He then used his wand on the handle and it turned to open, so he let himself inside. She heard the music cut and moments later, he reappeared looking annoyed. "He was asleep. Sleeps like the dead. Didn't even budge."

"That's Louis for you."

"Sorry to wake you up," he said, walking over to kiss her on the top of the head. "Go back to sleep. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year," she said, watching as he walked back downstairs. She waited until he was completely out of sight before turning back into her dark room and locking the door behind her. She walked over to where her lamp was and clicked it on. Jack was standing in a corner near her closet; he was mostly dressed.

"He's gone," she whispered.

"I can't believe you opened the door."

She laughed a little. "He would have never even dreamed I had a boy here. This is me we're talking about. I'm not sneaking them in and hiding them in my room. He'd never have checked."

He rubbed his face in an exhausted manner. "I'd rather not be the one you test that theory on."

"I didn't see you complaining a few minutes ago."

He looked up from behind his hand and smiled at her, though he still looked a little anxious. The mood had been killed completely and it wasn't coming back. He went and pulled his jumper over his head to finish getting dressed. Dominique thought of offering him his shirt back, but when he didn't ask, she decided to not worry about it.

"I should go," he said, now putting on his shoes. "Especially now that your parents are home."

She smirked. "Oh, it's like that? Get in, get out. Got what you came for?"

He threw her a look, as if to say that wasn't even funny. "It's not like that. Not at all. You know that."

She did know that, but it was easier to take the piss about. She wasn't prepared to handle this right now on anything other than a humorous level. "Are you ok to Apparate?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"You know you can stay here," she said, though his expression said that wasn't possible. She immediately followed with, "Here as in the house—as you have many times before. Not in this room, specifically."

"Your dad was just in Louis' room. He'd have seen I wasn't there."

"Say you slept in Vic's room. We could sneak you in there in the morning. No one's coming back here tonight."

To his credit, he seemed to consider that for a few seconds as he walked over to where she was standing. "I got lucky once. I probably shouldn't push it. Not with your parents. I can't risk it." He smiled at her. "But I really want to."

There was the familiar Jack she knew so well, with his sincere eyes and sweet smile. As amazing as the sex vibe he took on when they'd been in the thick of things, this was the one she'd fallen for in the first place. This one she wanted to kiss innocently in the common room instead of doing her homework—and she'd never wanted something as simple as that before.

She leaned in and kissed him for several seconds before pulling away. "Next time. Back at school where we don't have to worry about my parents walking in on us."

"No, just your brother," he said. "He and I don't even have a wall separating us."

"If only he was going away soon," she said, looking up at him and tugging on the front of his jumper. "For at least a month."

"How long until he leaves?"

"Couple of weeks."

He made a face as if that wasn't what he wanted to hear; he then blew air out of his nose. She let go of his jumper and said, "We'll figure something out," before playfully pushing him away. He did need to go. If he stayed too much longer, she was going to get herself worked up again and risk another visit from her father for strange noises coming through the floorboards.


	21. Nobody's Business

Dominique pulled Jack into the shower area of the Gryffindor changing room, pushing him up against the tile wall and kissing him the second she could. They were actually in the same spot they'd been in weeks before after they'd lost to Ravenclaw and she'd had her breakdown; this time though, tears weren't on the horizon. She was actually in a terrific mood.

"No one comes back here before practice," she said as they wasted no time immediately trying to snog the other's face off.

They'd been back at school for two weeks already, though this—this moment in the changing room—was the first time they'd had more than five minutes properly alone since arriving back. Not that they hadn't wanted to be, but they hadn't had the time after splitting their free moments between Louis and Sarah, who obviously weren't speaking. She and Jack had decided initially to take things slow and figure everything out once Louis was off to France, but as it turned out they didn't have much of a choice. Since getting back, it was proving to be difficult to find more than five minutes to be together now that their social circle had completely collapsed.

Sarah and Louis wanted nothing to do with each other—though that was more on Sarah's end than Louis'. With them not talking, it often meant that she and Jack had to make a choice—a separate choice. Jack joked that they were the children of a divorce choosing between two parents, with him often sitting at one end of the common room with Louis while she sat on the other end with Sarah. They'd switch and alternate, but the end result was often that the two of them were now spending little to no time actually together. It was rather ironic considering that was now all they wanted to do.

A quick kiss between classes or some light snogging between the shelves of the library had been all they managed over the last two weeks, but that changed today given that the Quidditch weather hiatus had ended and practices now resumed. Louis had also left for France that morning, which meant even more opportunities were available—including access to Jack's room without the threat of her brother being there. She knew she shouldn't have been anticipating her brother's departure as much as she was, but she tried to convince herself it was a silver lining to a shitty situation that was happening anyway. It had been a long two weeks of holding every urge inside, but it ended today. She was more than ready to celebrate.

"Watch today be the first day someone does come back here," Jack's muffled voice said, his mouth still on hers. There was a nervous hesitation to his demeanor that Dominique had already anticipated. They'd had a conversation the day prior about the fact that he'd never taken any real risks when it came to fooling around. Everything he'd ever done had been in rooms with closed doors or beds with curtains drawn around him—all very safe.

On the other hand, prior to Jack, Dominique had only ever experienced high risk scenarios where anyone could walk in. She and Davies hadn't had the luxury of shared houses to sneak off into bedrooms, so they'd done everything in and around corridors or inside these very Quidditch tunnels. She'd lost her virginity in the Ravenclaw changing room on a stack of towels that had been laid on the ground—which, in retrospect, wasn't a memory she would treasure forever—and she'd given her first blowjob in the equipment supply room. She could give an actual tour of her sexual history walking through this arena, so for her, there was something about this place that would always give her that thrill. She found something exciting about the idea of getting caught.

"If you want to stop," she said in between kisses. "We can just go get ready for practice instead."

He pulled his head back and shook his head, as if to say of course he was fine with this. "No, I'm fine. I just—what do we say if someone hears us?"

"Well, I won't be saying much of anything because I'll be busy," she joked as she reached down and tugged a little on the waist of his joggers. "You're going to have to be the one doing all the talking."

He stared rather blankly at her, which only made her laugh. Yesterday he'd jumped at her offer to mess around back here, but now, he seemed to be second guessing it. She needed to get him out of his own head. She was beginning to learn that about him—when alcohol wasn't involved, he got frequently stuck in his own head and needed the push.

"I've got some work to do with you." She grinned and kissed him; once again reassuring him that, "No one's going to come back here," without breaking away, just as their kissing grew more and more involved. She let her hands slide up his chest and around his neck and he reached his down around her waist, pulling her closer.

Jack hadn't wanted to keep things a secret from Louis; he'd felt they should just be honest with him and tell him they were hooking up before he left for France. She, however, hadn't been so keen. It had nothing to do with him knowing they had feelings for each other—she almost didn't care if he knew—but it was more that there wasn't much to actually tell yet. The two of them had slept together on New Year's Eve, they kissed a few times in a corridor and between some bookshelves, and they'd had a few conversations about figuring things out later. What was there to tell him? He didn't want to hear any of that. It's not as if they were in a proper relationship he should be aware of.

She managed to convince him to keep things quiet until they had a better idea of what they were, though it was hard to figure out what that was when they were forced to keep everything so quiet. It was a strange double-edged sword, but Jack had gone along with it with little complaint.

She reached down and started pulling the front of his trousers down, letting them settle around his knees. When she grabbed him, she felt him physically shift and make a very small moan of a noise. Practice was due to start soon and the rest of the team was bound to be entering the changing room any minute, if they hadn't already. They wouldn't be able to hear anything if they were quiet, but that also meant that she and Jack wouldn't be able to hear them either. This would have to be quick.

"You really don't have to do this in here," he said once she broke apart from his lips and dropped herself down.

"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't," she said, glancing up at him. "And if you don't want me to then speak now or—"

"I'll shut up," he said, which she took as a signal to waste no further time and get to work. She immediately set to work tugging and using her tongue in ways she'd learned usually got the best results. She was hoping roughly four minutes to get him off since that seemed to be the norm for her. Davies had actually timed her once.

She felt his hand on her head and for the briefest of moments, and thought he was about to push her deeper into him, which she hated. Davies had done that once or twice, though he'd immediately stopped after she purposefully dragged her teeth on him to get him to take a hint. In Jack's case, he seemed to just be playing with her hair in an absent sort of way; running his fingers through her ponytail as he mumbled, "You're amazing."

That was good to hear. Always nice to have positive feedback. She ramped things up a bit once she felt his body stiffen and his hand move from her head, sensing that if she kept it up, he'd come in the next minute. Her knees didn't exactly love this cold stone floor, but she did love how much he seemed to be enjoying this as he moaned, "Nic, I'm gonna…"

And then he did, with a muffled moan of a noise that he clearly was attempting to keep as low as possible. It almost made her want to laugh, but her mouth was still otherwise busy as she finished up the job before finally settling back and wiping her mouth with her sleeve. When she looked up at him, he was looking straight ahead in a vacant sort of way and breathing in short, heavy breaths. He looked down and grinned a little, tucking himself back into his trousers and then holding out a hand to help and pull her up off the floor.

"Told you no one would walk in."

"You were right,." He reached out to pull her closer to him. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Just pay it forward and do me next time."

"I'd do you now if you asked," he said as he leaned in to kiss her. "Forget practice. I'll cancel it. I just want you."

She smirked a little, but also found herself reflexively backing up from his kiss in a surprised manner. He wanted to kiss her…? After she'd just…? But he'd…? She'd only had any real experience with Davies after these things, but that had always been a hard no for him. No kissing after that.

He let go of her once he'd noticed her hesitation and seemed confused. "What?"

"You want to...kiss me?"

His expression said that was an odd question to ask. "Yes?"

"After what you just did?"

"Oh." He now seemed to understand. "I don't care. It doesn't bother me. I feel like it's a bit fucked if I expect you to do all that and I'm not even willing to kiss you after, you know? Does it bother you?"

She shrugged, having never really thought about how she felt about it since it had always just been a no. "I don't know. I've never...so I've never thought about it."

He stared at her as if he was studying her and looking for something oddly specific in her face. "You've never or—" He paused for emphasis, "someone didn't want you to?"

She laughed a little. He seemed to be reading her mind; her expression must have answered that question before she could get the words out.

"Why doesn't that surprise me," he muttered under his breath, though he quickly added, "If you don't want to, I won't. But know that I'm fine with it. I'll kiss you whenever you let me."

"I…" She actually felt herself start to blush a little. Weren't they back here fooling around because he was the novice one who needed to experience new things? Why was she suddenly feeling so naive? "I mean, I would. As long as you don't mind—"

He suddenly leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. "I don't mind." With that, he shrugged, grinned, and made a head gesture toward the exit. "We should go or else we'll be late."

"Right," she nodded, though the second he'd turned away, she found herself cracking a small smile. "Yeah."

"I didn't plan this out well at all," Jack said once she followed him out of the showers. "I should have thought about Louis leaving this morning and held up beginning practices again for one more day. We'd have all afternoon to ourselves."

"True, but it'll be good to get out there," she said as they walked into the empty changing room, noticing that other people's locker doors were open and bags were strewn about in ways that hadn't been that way before they'd snuck into the showers. It was evident that the rest of the team had been here, but just as Dominique had suspected, they would have gone about their business and made their way out to the pitch already. It had really been that easy. "Get the blood flowing."

"My blood's already flowing," he said as he walked to his locker to grab his broom. "And I can think of some more fun ways to get yours going than flying around in near frigid temperatures."

"More fun or more naked?" she asked from across the room as she attempted to open her own locker.

"In this case, it's one in the same."

She gathered her broom and pulled an extra jumper over her head, watching as Jack juggled with his own broom, his bat, the playbook that he'd pulled out of his locker before slamming it shut behind him and walking straight over toward the exit. She went to grab the door for him as they both made their way out into the tunnel.

"You are planning on spending the night tonight, right?" he asked her in a muffled way, now that he was holding the playbook in his mouth in order to get a better grip on his broom and bat.

She nodded. Louis was gone and that had been the deal. Not that she didn't want to spend the night with him in his room—she did—but there was a strange sort of anxiousness accompanying the idea of doing that. It wasn't due to anything they'd do, but rather what people would now say. It wasn't just Louis they'd kept their new status from—it had been almost everyone. Hogwarts liked to talk; especially if people saw you entering or emerging from the room of someone else at random parts of the morning or night. Her spending the night there meant people were going to start asking questions.

Their close friends already knew about the two of them; they'd been cool enough to keep it quiet for now. That would only last so long, especially with Louis gone and there being no more excuses. Flynn—who'd walked in on them that night after the Christmas Party—had already told Sarah over the holidays what he'd seen that night. He'd also told Natalie, who he was now officially dating after some alone time over the holidays. That apparently granted her access to all of his secrets and stories, including the ones Dominique was featured in.

"You know how new relationships go," Sarah had said to Dominique on the day she'd gotten back, referring to Natalie and Flynn. She'd followed her upstairs to watch her unpack, seemingly thrilled to have someone different to talk to after spending the holiday with the new couple. "They just always want to be together and they want to be alone all the time. I can only take so much of them."

Dominique hummed a little. She did now know exactly how that felt. She'd already wondered multiple times since getting back about what time Jack was getting in.

"Speaking of new relationships. Anything you want to tell me?" Sarah asked.

Dominique slowly turned around to look at her. Sarah was grinning at her in a very knowing sort of way that screamed that she'd clearly heard something. For the briefest of moments, Dominique couldn't figure out how she possibly knew she and Jack had hooked up on New Year's; then it hit her that she didn't know. She only knew what Flynn had probably told her.

"Dunno what you're talking about," she said, turning back around to fold shirts.

"No? Rumor has it you and a certain someone got caught snogging in his room before you left."

"Rumor or Flynn?" she muttered.

"Look at you," Sarah said. "You finally went and kissed Jack. Good for you."

She shrugged, still focusing entirely on her unpacking.

"So?" Sarah asked, rising from her bed to come and sit on Dominique's. It forced her directly in Dominique's line of sight so that she couldn't avoid her. "What happened? Did you two see each other over break? Did anything else happen?"

"Not as much as I would have liked," Dominique said, tossing the last of her clothes onto her bed before she looked at Sarah. "Louis went and hijacked him onto some adventure—a lads' trip—and they were gone for days. I was left on my own and bored out of my mind."

Sarah rolled her eyes, though whether it was due to what she had said or Louis' name in general, she wasn't sure. "Of course they did. Louis obviously needed a break after all that cheating." Her face grew cold. "Poor him."

"You may be happy to hear that he wouldn't eat or leave his room for the first few days he was home."

She shrugged as if she didn't care. "Doesn't make me happy. Doesn't make me anything."

"He'd mentioned he still wants to be friends."

"I've got enough friends."

Dominique had to hand it to her, she didn't seem nearly as cut up about Louis as she would have thought she'd been. Apparently the break and the separation had been a good thing and she looked as if she'd come out the other side in one piece—that or she was faking it well.

"Anyway," Sarah said in a subject changing tone. "You probably would have had as much fun around here. I was mostly on my own seeing as Flynn and Natalie were often 'occupied'." She emphasized that word for effect. "I think I spent most days playing Hexes and Spades with Fiona and Flyer."

Dominique sat across from her, having caught on to one particular detail that Sarah kept bringing up. "You keep mentioning Natalie."

She had started to nod before Dominique had even finished. "Right. Yeah, so we've actually been sort of hanging out. Talking here and there. Burying the hatchet, if you will."

"Really? Are you friends again?"

"Sort of. Not quite there. She actually reached out to me a day or two after you all had left and I was in a right state. Told me exactly what I needed to hear."

Dominique stared at her, silently urging her to elaborate as to what that was.

"That Louis sucks."

"Oh. Yeah, I bet that's something you two could talk about."

"And…" She paused and looked at Dominique. "Don't take this the wrong way, but it felt good to be able to actually talk to someone about what happened and how I felt. I can't do that with you. He's your brother. You're always going to be loyal to him."

She pulled a face. "What he did was fucked up and I agree with you—"

"I know," she interrupted. "I know. I'm not saying that you'll just blindly defend him—even if you do—but there were things I needed to say that I can't say to you. Those words can't be taken back if you hear them." She paused. "Not that I'd take any of them back. But, I can't unload on you the way I can on Natalie. A part of you would never forgive me for some of the things."

"If anyone understands things said out of anger, it's me. I'd have gotten over it."

"You say that, but I know you when it comes to your brother. You can talk shit on him, but you've got limits when it's other people." She sat up straighter. "Plus, we talked about the sex, and you don't—"

"Alright." She threw her hands up in surrender.

Sarah started to laugh. "But, it's out of my system. Natalie and I actually had a really good chat. She always was a good listener. We eventually were talking about our past and our problems. It was probably a good four hour conversation." She looked amused . "I can say with certainty that it was the longest she and Flynn were apart the entire holiday break."

Dominique hummed in a pleasant way before she gestured around their bedroom. "I suppose that means the awkwardness around here will finally be gone."

"It'll be just like the old days," Sarah said. "Except instead of Louis being the center of anyone's universe, we get to listen to her talk about Flynn."

"I don't know which is worse."

"Well, maybe if you and Jack decide to figure things out, you can drown her out. If you two are already snogging, it's only a matter of time before that turns into something real."

Turns into something real. What does that even mean? Real seemed so...real. So official and adult. She loved the kissing and the sex and being with him, but beyond that she was rather afraid to think about more. How was she even supposed to proceed? Would they have to talk about it? Do people do that? Just talk about their status and labels and what they wanted to be with each other? Why did that all feel so awkward to her? Why couldn't they just keep doing what they were doing?

"So what happened with you two that night?" Sarah asked. "What finally pushed you to kiss him? Or did he kiss you? How about some details?"

"We only kissed in the first place to save your arse."

"Is that what you're telling yourself?"

She laughed. "No, seriously. Listen—" she began, starting at the beginning and filling her in on all the details of the night of the Christmas party. The awkward Filch kiss had greatly amused Sarah, and Dominique built the story up to what brought them to snogging and having Flynn walk in on them in the first place. She was just about to transition into New Year's Eve when Sarah—having presumably assumed that the snog was the end of the story—started laughing in a celebratory sort of way.

"I knew I just needed to get you two to have a moment," she said. "You got proper time together and look at what happens. Next time we'll work it out so you can be truly alone. Free of Flynn walking in and Louis—well, who cares about him? But we'll arrange some actual alone time. Lock you in a room together."

"You don't have to because we figured that out ourselves," Dominique countered. "On New Year's Eve, he came over. We drank a little and we...did things."

Sarah gaped ever so slightly, now looking entirely confused. "But you said Louis went and kidnapped him on some lads' trip—"

"I mean, he did most of the time. But I saw him on New Year's Eve."

"And you...did things? What kind of things?"

Dominique let a funny sort of smile appear on her face. "You know. Things."

"Were there clothes on during any of these things?"

"Not for long."

Sarah's jaw legitimately dropped. "Wait? Did the two of you—?"

She started nodding.

"What? Snogging? Touching? Fingering? Oral? Fucking? What?"

She was still nodding.

"Wait? You had sex with him!?'

Still nodding.

Sarah outright gawked. "How did you not lead with that!? Why are we talking about you snogging in his bloody bedroom when you shagged him in yours!?" Her head looked as if it might suddenly explode. "What?!"

"I was getting to it," she said. "We had a bit of a moment and things happened."

"You need to stop. I'm going to need to know everything," she said, shaking her head. "None of this 'a bit of a moment' rubbish."

She proceeded to tell her everything about the Witch's Wordplay game and the Firewhiskey. How all the pieces fell into place and they'd gone for it. How he was really good with his hands and how she'd really enjoyed the entire thing—up until her father came around knocking on the door. That had been a mood killer. But they'd escaped being caught, which is all that mattered.

Sarah was still clearly very amused. "I'm surprised he went straight for it. He and Whit waited forever."

"That was clearly her choice than his because he barely even hesitated. I gave him the go-ahead and he was in. Literally."

"Well, it had been awhile for him. He was probably just ready to shake off the cobwebs. You'll probably have to train him up a bit."

She shrugged. "I'm not worried about it. I trained him up in Quidditch and now look at him. He's internationally ranked."

Sarah lost it into a fit of laughter at that. It took her a good thirty seconds before she finally managed to sputter out, "He has no idea what he's in for." She took a deep breath. "But then again, you don't either when it comes to the actual relationship part. He's got the whole boyfriend thing down pat, and you…" She smiled at her. "Are you finally going to have a proper boyfriend? I never thought I'd see the day."

Dominique's face had fallen a bit at that. She'd looked away, not wanting to talk about the relationship or commitment part; nothing real that had to do with feelings and emotions. That part made her anxious. That part wasn't something she wanted to think about until she had to think about it.

And as she and Jack passed through the tunnel toward the entrance to the pitch, it was now the time she had to start thinking about it. All of her buffers—the "too early to tell" and "not until Louis is off to France" were gone and passed. As of now, he was probably going to want to talk about it; about what they were. She felt her chest clench at the thought.

But she still had Quidditch practice to get through. She didn't have to worry about that conversation until at least they were through the next hour. She needed to refocus on Quidditch and how they'd drawn Ravenclaw to play first this term and that the rematch was only a couple weeks away. She and Jack had made a deal that out on the pitch, they were teammates first and foremost—just as they'd always been. They needed to keep up that partnership for the sake of the team.

"Everyone's going to be lazy and slow today," Dominique said as they emerged from the tunnel that led to the pitch's entrance.

"They always are," Jack agreed. "Everyone has been off their brooms for the last month and eating food and Christmas sweets. Happens every year."

"And, since it's so cold out today, it's a known fact that colder temperatures slow even the best players down, hence why even at a professional level scoring percentages drop by 23% in the winter months."

"23% is oddly specific."

"I read a study on it."

He grinned at her as they found their way out onto the pitch, the grass crunching underneath their trainers in an icy sort of way. The entire rest of the team was milling around out near the center, with James apparently showing Alice some sort of broom trick while Kenley, Tommy, and Eatins stood and talked amongst themselves. Tommy was swinging his bat around in either an attempt to warm his arm up or keep warm in general. He stopped swinging once she and Jack approached.

"You're late!" Tommy called, looking at Jack specifically.

He checked his watch. "Seems by a...minute and a half. Yeah, I guess I am."

"A minute and a half is late, mate," Tommy said. "You make me fly laps when I'm late."

"I'll make you fly laps just because I feel like it," Jack quipped, throwing him a look. "But you know what, because I'm a team player, I'll fly a few. I could use the warm up anyway. We all could."

"We're all a bit confused," Tommy said with a bit of smug aura about him, grinning back at Kenley and Eatins as he said it. "Because when we got here, your stuff was in the changing room." He looked over at Dominique. "Yours too. But then neither of you were anywhere to be found."

Eatins wasn't even trying to hide his laughter at this point, which only seemed to fuel Tommy more.

"So, obviously, you both had to be out here, but," he shrugged, "you weren't. So, maybe you were in the equipment closet getting stuff together?" He started shaking his head. "Nope. Though, me and Eatins went ahead and pulled it all out for practice."

"About time you made yourself useful," Jack said, sounding bored. "And as much as we're all enjoying the show, why don't you go ahead and get to the point, Tommy?"

"Just strange that you're both late, is all," he said, still grinning. "And then you both turn up together; at the exact same time." He turned and looked back to everyone else. "Ken, made a really good point about how this all seems very familiar."

"How's that?"

"Just reminds us of last year and how Nicki would come late because she'd be off doing whatever with Davies. Only now instead of Davies…" He let his head fall in a very dramatic sort of fashion toward Jack.

Kenley and Eatins were exchanging shared looks of amusement—the kind that indicated they'd apparently already discussed this and we're enjoying it being brought to light. James was grinning, which immediately made Dominique recall their conversation from New Year's about she and Jack. Alice was the only one who seemed rather confused.

Jack sighed before he looked over at Dominique. He didn't seem angry or annoyed. He actually looked at her in a way that could best be described as, "Oh well. We got caught." He might have even been a little amused, though he was clearly waiting on her to react.

She wasn't as amused. She instead felt instantly caged and put on the spot in; she wanted all of them to fuck right off. This was none of their business. It wasn't anyone's.

"I, for one, would be in full support of this development," Tommy said, which evoked multiple chuckles from the others. "Especially considering last year, how all the two of you ever did was row and scream at each other. This is the better alternative. I just think you owe it to us—" He gestured around to everyone, "to tell us the truth."

"Oh, fuck off," Dominique said with a roll of her eyes. "No one owes you anything."

"But this would affect all of us," Tommy continued, still carrying on as if he were the ringmaster of this strange little circus. The others were clearly enjoying the spectacle, and if Tommy had a captive audience, he was absolutely going to run with it. She was suddenly starting to miss his early days after he'd just made the team; back when he was a far less arrogant fourth-year who she could intimidate with a look. "I've heard that the two of you are very much together—"

"We're not...together," she stammered in an angry way, wishing that everyone here would just bloody well disappear. "And you need to mind your own fucking business." With that, she turned to walk off so that she could mount her broom, fly off into the sky, and go and practice on her own.

No one followed her and she could only imagine the sort of things they were all saying down below. She was happy she was a Seeker at times like this so that she didn't have to work with anyone if she didn't want to. Even Jack steered clear of her for the remainder of practice, which was surprising since he always had a few notes for her.

She'd made a point to pick up her speed so that he couldn't complain that she was slow, and mostly worked on her pinpoint dives for accuracy for the entire hour until she noticed the Chasers finishing up and landing. She avoided everyone and cleaned up her own equipment, listening as Jack barked at some of the others to gather their things so they could put everything away. She waited for everyone to start walking back before she grabbed her broom and trailed behind.

Tommy looked at her tentatively once she'd entered the changing room, but said nothing to her before slamming all of his stuff into his locker and calling after Kenley to wait for him as she left. Eatins and James were talking about their Quidditch card collections with Alice, both trying to make theirs sound better and more impressive—though Dominique knew Eatins didn't stand a chance against James' if they were to actually compare—and they'd continued that conversation out the door until it was just she and Jack left behind. Usually this was just how she preferred things, but there was now a coldness in the room that had nothing to do with the temperature.

She let herself sit on the bench in front of her locker and watch as Jack silently put his stuff away, pulling off the extra jumper he'd be wearing and stuffing it inside his own. He was almost working overtime to ignore her, so she knew something was wrong. She might as well just get to it.

"What's your problem?"

He laughed a little to himself, but didn't look away from what he was doing in his locker. "What was that about?"

She shrugged. She knew exactly what he was referring to but decided to play it off as if she had no idea. "I don't—?"

"We're not together?"

She took a heavy breath, her stomach now tying itself up in knots because the idea of this conversation gave her anxiety that she couldn't even explain. "I mean, we're not technically."

"Technically?" he asked, sounding annoyed. "What does that mean? We're together all the time. You just blew me in the showers. You know how I feel about you and you said…" He trailed off. "How are we not...?"

Her mind was spinning so quickly that she couldn't grasp a proper thought to say. She was not ready for this conversation. She wasn't sure she would ever be ready. "It's only been a couple of weeks."

He again laughed a little to himself, but there was no humor.

"I don't…" She sat up straighter, watching him as he walked across the room. "This isn't even about that, it's about Tommy being a nosy fucking prat when none of this is any of his business—let alone any of their business. Even if we'd figured out what this is, it's no one's business."

He turned around. "I thought we were just keeping things quiet until Louis left?"

She stared at him.

"Then once we figured it out we'd—you know—tell people. Why wouldn't we?"

"Because it's no one's business."

"Nothing is anyone's business," he said bluntly, "but that doesn't mean you can't share the better parts of your life with people. It doesn't mean people can't find out we're together. That's how relationships work." He stopped to look at her. "If you want to hide it so badly, what's the point?"

"Stop it," she said standing up. "It's not…" She took a deep breath. "I like this. This is great. Don't think I don't enjoy it. I...I've never been in a relationship before—not a proper one. I don't..." She kept stopping and struggling to find the words. "It's terrifying, alright? I don't even know how to be in one. I sure as hell don't know how to act in one. I'm not that girl. I never have been."

He stared at her for a long moment. So long in fact that she started to feel a little strange standing there caught in this crossfire of awkward tension. He had to know this wasn't easy for her—if he knew her at all, he had to understand that. Had he really expected her to just jump into things without any hesitation?

"You said you fancied me that one night," he finally said. "Did you mean that?"

She nodded. "Yes, I meant that. I wouldn't be carrying on with you the way we've been the last two weeks if I didn't."

"You carried on with Davies for ages and you were always adamant about not fancying him."

"That…" Shit, that was a fair point and she wished she hadn't said that. But he had to realize it was different this time. Her feelings were different, despite her fear of actually showing them to him. How she felt about him and how she felt about Davies could not have been more opposite, but he obviously didn't see it that way. "That was different. I do fancy you, but it doesn't make the whole going public thing any easier for me."

"So, what?" You want to keep things quiet and without any real attachment? That's what I'm getting from this?"

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. Truthfully, that was exactly what she wanted since it seemed like the best way to keep herself from getting hurt. If she didn't commit to a relationship, there couldn't be any messy breakups where they hated each other later. She didn't have to worry about another person affecting her life so much. She didn't have to care so much, even though she did care about him—she just had no idea how to show him that. She wanted to keep things exactly as they were without all of the emotional baggage, but Jack obviously was not on board for that. He wanted more. She wasn't even sure if she was capable of more. The idea of that made her chest clench.

"Look," he said finally, his voice calmer than before. "I can handle you needing some time to work things out and hopefully meeting me on the other end. But if you don't think this is something you can ever do…" He screwed his face up in almost a pained sort of way before straightening it out. "You need to tell me because I can't keep going if we don't want the same things."

She found her breaths growing slow and even. He couldn't keep going if they didn't want the same things. He was essentially telling her they'd have to stop if they didn't get on the same page. But why was it his page they had to get on? Why was it so important that they be real and proper? They had a really good thing going right now.

"But why does it have to be official or whatever?" she asked. "Why do we have to be as everyone else is?"

"It's not being like everyone else, it's having a relationship," he said. "I don't want to see other people because I fancy you and have for a long time. Do you want to see other people?"

"No," she said quietly. What kind of question was that? Who else was she going to see?

"Then I'm not seeing why…?" He trailed off, sounding more and more frustrated. "You say you fancy me, you say you don't want to see other people, you enjoy the time we're together, everything's been great…" He stared at her. "That's pretty fucking official. What am I missing? You just don't want me to call you my girlfriend? You want to be able to deny that even if everything else ticks a box?"

When he put it like that it sounded really stupid. But oddly enough, that summed it up well. The word girlfriend really did make her heart race in an inexplicable way—and not in the butterflies and excitement type.

"I don't know what sort of shit Davies got in your head about relationships and how not to be in one, but that was with him," he said. "That's not me. And I don't want anything like what you two had. If that's all you're capable of doing then…"

"Then what?"

"Then we need to stop."

"I don't want to stop," she said immediately. The words had come out before she'd even had a moment to process them. She didn't want to stop. There had to be a way to come to some sort of middle ground.

"I don't either. But I don't want to fall harder and harder for you and then find out we want completely different things. It would hurt now to stop, it would be so much worse down the line."

She blinked and looked down at the floor. "Ok. You're right. Obviously Davies got in my head and did a number on it and I just need some time to...work things out." She looked at him. "Can I get a little time to sort myself out?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding far away. "If you think there's a chance, then yeah."

She nodded, shifting her weight awkwardly and not really knowing what else to say. "I get that you won't wait around forever. I know that."

"I won't," he said as he turned to pick up his bag and headed for the door. "But I've waited this long."


	22. The Ministry of Magic

"I expect all of you to be on your best behavior," said Professor McGonagall as she stood before the entire collection of seventh-years, all scattered amongst the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables. They had all been shuffled back into the Great Hall after breakfast for a meeting before they were to leave and spend the day at the Ministry of Magic. So far, it had been nothing more than the standard procedure, "You are representing Hogwarts and we expect the best from our students" lecture; Dominique felt she'd probably heard variations of the same speech about thirty times by now.

The annual Ministry visit was a seventh-year tradition. With graduation around the corner, it allowed anyone wishing to pursue a career in specific areas of the Ministry the chance to meet officials, see headquarters, and even arrange meetings and pre-interviews if they had the right connections. Ansel Baileymoore—whose family had a various influence in several Ministry departments—claimed to have arranged four meetings and would tell anyone who would listen about how impressive it was to have achieved that.

Most people maybe had one or two if they happened to have a parent who knew someone to connect them to. If you were particularly talented, a professor may put your name forward and you might have been invited to interview. That would have been where Louis fit into things had he been here. Others, like Lira Chin—whose parents were Muggles and had no connections—had two interviews that she clearly had gotten on her own merit; Michael Ellison, the potions wunderkind, had also secured two given his skills. Sarah had gotten one in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. She'd been in correspondence with a Junior Deputy Director since sixth-year after she'd taken a chance in contacting someone due to a growing interest correcting miscast spells and fixing magical accidents. They were all part of the group that had actually earned their meetings.

Dominique, on the other hand, didn't have anything lined up. While she easily had more ties to the Ministry that Ansel Baileymoore did—her Uncle Percy headed the Department of Transportation, her Uncle Harry was a Head of the Auror department and rumored to be taking over the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement by this summer, and her Aunt Hermione was already a high ranking Deputy Head in the very same department—she wasn't about to use them for the sake of looking important.

She didn't want to sit through boring sit-downs about being an Auror or broom regulatory control because she had family in all of those areas. She had no desire to work in any of those fields and she didn't really have an interest in the Ministry in general, seeing as she wanted to play Quidditch professionally. As it were, she—like many others—was going today because it was an excuse to miss class and get out of the castle.

No one else in Gryffindor outside of Sarah had anything scheduled, though it didn't mean that the day still wasn't filled with various tours and visits to help inform students of their options. They were to be split into smaller groups and led around to get a feel for a future Ministry career, but the simple fact was that Ministry life was not for everyone. Jack wanted to play Quidditch, Natalie wanted to travel and further study Divinatory Arts, Eleanor wants to work for the Prophet, and Flynn...Flynn didn't have much of a plan, so perhaps this trip was good for him.

"Your Heads of Houses have all arranged individualized schedules that have placed you into groups for your tours and lectures," McGonagall was saying. "For those of you with interviews, those have been included. For those of you that do not, activities have been added to your itineraries. You will have a break for lunch at the Ministry commissary and you will all meet by the Fountain of Magical Brethren at the Ministry's entrance no later than ten to five so that we may travel back to school at five o'clock sharp. Anyone who does not return on time can find their own way back to school. Feel free to stop by your Head's office upon your arrival."

There was a general murmur of laughter throughout the group as McGonagall suddenly stepped forward with a small stack of parchment and began calling names out alphabetically, starting with Reggie Avery. One by one, students rose to go and collect their schedules, though Dominique sat back to wait given that she was always at the bottom.

Eleanor had gone to fetch hers, followed moments later by Jack and Sarah just behind him. They returned one by one, though it was Sarah who laid hers down on the table and immediately started scanning it over. "My interview is at one-thirty." She smiled and glanced from Eleanor to Jack. "What group did you get?"

"A," Eleanor said. "I get to start in the Department of Games and Sports."

"Lucky you," Jack said, not looking up from his schedule. "I've got B."

"I got B, too!" Sarah said, sounding happy to hear that. "We've got the Department of Magical Transportation first thing."

He looked up at her as if she'd just suggested they watch paint dry. "Yay."

"Oh, get off it. They've got brooms there. That should interest you."

"It won't," Dominique said. "It's the boring stuff about regulations and rules and it'll put you to sleep. It's painfully dull."

"Doesn't one of your uncles head the department?"

"Yes, and he's painfully dull, too."

Jack laughed a little from beside her, reaching over to give her arm a playful pinch. She smiled back at him.

It had been over a week since their discussion in the changing room and things were going well. Jack wasn't pushing things and they hadn't talked much about their actual status since; they were most definitely still taking things slow, but it was a comfortable slow. They always sat together when they could. There were subtle efforts to touch and have flirty conversation in public and with people around. They still would kiss given the right opportunity, and she'd slept in his room for the first time just the night before.

While she'd geared up for a bit of action, they'd actually only snogged and then talked before falling asleep. The mellow nature of the evening had actually come as a surprise to her.

"You're a liar," she'd said to him as they lay face to face on his pillow. "There is absolutely no way."

"You are," he said affirmatively. "I've always thought so. Always thought you were gorgeous. I mean, don't get me wrong, there wasn't an attraction until recently, but objectively speaking, I've always thought your face was perfect."

"You're a liar." She laughed. "You have eyes. I was a mess. Still am."

Jack propped his head up on his arm, his other hand resting comfortably on her hip. "No, you're not. You have, without question, the prettiest eyes I've ever seen."

She smirked at him. "You know Louis has the same eyes. So, what you're also saying is..."

"Nope," he said immediately, making a face and rolling over onto his back. "He is not part of this conversation."

She laughed, which made him also laugh before adding, "Even if they're all the same, on your face they stand out more. They're piercing. It's sexy. I've found myself lost in yours and that was even before any of this," he gestured between them, "happened."

She rolled over onto her back and laughed. "You're so full of shit."

"I'm not," he said, laughing as well. "I can remember at least two times before we started this where I found myself thinking you were fitter than I'd bothered to realize."

"Oh, this should be good," she said. "Two times, huh?"

He nodded. "First time. Fifth-year. Your sister's birthday party. I was in your living room waiting around because I'd gotten there early. You came downstairs in your purple dress robes that you were forced to wear—"

She inhaled slowly, remembering that night exactly now that he'd mentioned it. They had been purple. They had also once belonged to Victoire—as they always did. Her mum had made her wear them because it was a special occasion and fancy dress was required. She'd felt stupid in them. How did he even remember that?

"And I remember you looked incredible. I'd never seen you dressed up before and I was blown away by it. I still remember you came over to talk to me, and I think it took me a few seconds to remember how to talk to you." He paused, as if thinking, "But if I remember, I think you took the piss at me for my haircut, which reminded me who I was dealing with." He smirked. "Bubble burst."

She stared at him for a long moment as the story sunk in. "You're serious?"

He was nodding again. "I remember looking at your face—your eyes, and the same eyes I'd seen on you a hundred times—but that was the first time I found myself just struck by them."

"Huh," she said, looking up toward the top of his bed and feeling lost in thought. The story checked out, despite her being shocked that he'd been serious. "Wasn't that the night you and Whit got together?"

"It was," he said as he let himself fall back onto his pillow, both of them now lying side by side.

"Also the night you didn't kiss my sister in Truth or Dare?"

"It was a busy night."

She glanced over at him and smiled. He was smiling, too. It was strange to think of what could have been, even though there was no possible way she would have ever even considered him—or anyone—at that point in her life. He wouldn't have either since she ultimately would have changed out of the dress robes and gone back to normal, but it was an interesting thought. He apparently had been in a mood to find something that night because he eventually did with Whit. To think that what they were doing this minute could have happened years before—if so many different circumstances had come into play—it made her think.

"And two?" she asked. "You said there were two."

"Quidditch World Cup," he said, again turning onto his side to propping his head up on his hand. He took his other hand and reached out to rest it on her stomach. "Soon as I saw you. You'd been in France and you'd—"

"The haircut," she said, nodding slowly as she realized. "Wow. That haircut did me wonders, apparently."

"You look amazing with short hair," he said. "You do with long hair too, but it was that, back then, you used to hide behind your hair or pile it up on your head like a bird's nest. When you cut it all off, you suddenly had this perfect face and these amazing eyes and it was just there. It was hard not to look at you."

She turned over to face him. "I never noticed you looking. I feel as if I would have noticed and told you off."

"It's not as if I was sitting there watching you like some weirdo," he offered. "I thought you were hot, I wasn't looking to make anything of it. Besides, I got over it not long after. Once you stopped talking to me."

"I didn't stop talking to you. I picked plenty of fights with you."

"Right, who could forget?" he muttered as he suddenly reached out to squeeze her side. It tickled, making her laugh and involuntarily squirm as he added, "Good times."

She wiggled out of his grasp, though let herself get right up beside him afterwards. "If it makes you feel any better. I realize now that it was the right choice. You've made a better captain than I would have. Your patience alone..." She made a face. She honestly couldn't understand how he even managed to keep his cool as often as he did.

"It's only because I've had your help," he said. "And I honestly mean that."

She knew he did. He'd never said otherwise, even when he had nothing to gain or lose by saying it. "We make a good team."

"We do," he agreed, before he leaned down and kissed her. It was sweet but quick, and when he pulled away, she found herself looking up at him. He may have been going on and on about her eyes tonight, but she had to admit she was a bit taken by his right now. He was also letting that last bit purposely hang in the air—as if to make a point. They did make an excellent team. Perhaps she really should take the hint.

If only it were that simple. She was still so confused as to how she was even supposed to know what she wanted. Was a bell just going to ding in her head? Was she just going to wake up one day and everything made more sense? If she thought about it really hard, would she be less afraid of the commitment and the risk? It was as if she was waiting for a sign that she didn't know would ever come. All she knew was that she really fancied him and wanted it to always stay this simple.

"I don't get it," Sarah had said to her earlier in the week, once Dominique had explained to her everything that had happened with Jack. "You're afraid of what exactly?"

"I've never had a boyfriend."

"Ehhh," Sarah made a face. "Don't get me wrong, he was a rubbish one, but I still argue that Davies was. So, you actually have."

"I've never had a proper one. One that cared. One where you're supposed to actually put in the effort and...whatever it is you're supposed to do."

"Supposed to do?" Sarah asked. "You're not really supposed to do anything more than what you already enjoy doing together. You talk, you do things, you have a laugh, you touch each other naked. Rinse repeat. Just don't do the naked part with other people and you're set."

"Until all of that stops working and you fall apart."

Sarah grew quiet. When Dominique looked over at her, she realized she didn't have much of a response to that. It wasn't until after a prolonged silence that she said, "There's always that chance."

"Exactly. Why take that chance?"

"Why take a chance on anything, then?" she asked. "There's a chance someone else catches the Snitch, do you just not bother playing?"

"Stop," she said, waving her off. "Don't do Quidditch metaphors when you barely understand the game. And I'm not even sure that meant what you wanted it to mean."

"Whatever," Sarah mumbled. "Point is, even if things do fall apart, you've lived and learned. You avoid your mistakes and you grow as a person. And there's always a chance it works out. You'd never know if you don't take the bloody chance."

"Knowing what you know now, would you do it all over again with Louis?"

Sarah stared at her; her lips pursed in a particular manner before she finally said, "Yes."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying. He and I were really good for a long time. That was a year of my life and I loved him." She got quiet and mumbled, "Hell, I still do—it doesn't flip off like a switch. But regardless, I learned a lot about myself. So yeah. I would. Only difference is the second time, I'd talk him out of entering the tournament."

In the Great Hall, Flynn had returned to the table with his schedule, to which Natalie immediately began scanning it over his shoulder as he announced he was in Group A. At the same moment, McGonagall called out, "Wallace, Weasley, and Young."

She and Natalie both stood, walking the short distance to where McGonagall handed Dominique a copy of hers before Natalie received hers. Her eyes quickly went to where it stated she was in Group C.

"I'm in C," Natalie said as she followed behind Dominique.

"I am as well," she said once she'd returned to her seat next to Jack, reiterating to everyone what group she and Natalie had been placed in. She laid her schedule down on the table and Sarah immediately reached across to take and inspect it.

"We're starting in Magical Law Enforcement," Natalie said to her.

"Of course," Dominique muttered without enthusiasm, finding herself completely unsurprised. Why not walk straight into a department where the Weasley name held quite a bit of clout? She always thoroughly enjoyed having her classmates side-eye her for coming from a well-connected family. Perhaps she should take a lesson out of Baileymoore's book and simply embrace it. He never seemed to care.

She glanced at Jack, who turned to look at her the second she had. He looked less than enthusiastic about his potential day and she had to wonder if she was making a similar expression. "I was really hoping we'd get the same group."

"I never get that lucky," she mumbled, noticing that his hand was under the table and casually resting on his leg. She'd been trying to push herself to be more public and showy, just so he knew she meant how she felt, so she reached out and took his hand with hers. He didn't even flinch when she did it, letting his finger interlock with hers as Flynn suddenly called his attention across the table to ask him something.

He turned to talk to him, though held her hand snugly—probably as he had a hundred times before in his life since it was such a simple gesture for most people. What he couldn't have known was that she'd never made that attempt on anyone before—especially not where other people could see it. This was a huge gesture on her part and she'd done it. She felt rather proud of herself.

"Wait, what's this?" Sarah asked, pointing at Dominique's schedule.

"What's what?" she asked, just as McGonagall, who'd finished handing out all of the schedules, was now calling for everyone to stand and follow her toward the large fireplace situated in the center of the room. They needed to gather in their groups.

"You've got something scheduled for later in the afternoon," Sarah said as she stood, everyone else standing as well. "It says 'Interview, Office 515.' Here. Have a look."

Jack had dropped her hand in order to stand up, and she'd taken that moment to reach across the table to take her schedule back and see what Sarah was pointing at. She was absolutely right, but where had that come from? She hadn't asked for that and she certainly hadn't arranged it herself. "515. Would that be level 5? What's on level 5?"

"Department of International Magical Cooperation," Sarah said as they followed the crowd.

"Why would I want anything to do with that?" Dominique asked, already feeling the squeeze of Jack grabbing her hand once again. She glanced down briefly, now realizing they didn't have the safety of the table to keep this hidden any longer. They were doing this very openly. She was actually...doing this. A public display of affection. She...wow.

Jack wasn't even paying attention and certainly wasn't thinking about it as she was. He was currently comparing his schedule with Mike Ellison and Nick Corning, as casually as could be. It only reaffirmed to her that she was being absolutely mental even dwelling on it. No one even cared. Why was she so in her head about this, but barely gave sex a second thought?

"Maybe other people have things, too?" Sarah said, rounding on Flynn and Natalie, who were comparing their schedules. "Hey, what do you have around four?"

They both looked up at her before Natalie let herself glance back down at her parchment. "Tour of the courtrooms."

Flynn nodded. "Same."

"Oh, that's nice. At least we'll have that together," Natalie began to say to her boyfriend, though Dominique had already turned back around to Sarah. She noticed then that Sarah was looking at her with a funny sort of smile, having just noticed her holding onto Jack's hand. She seemed impressed with her, but thankfully didn't speak on it.

Dominique stopped and tugged on Jack's hand to tear his attention away from the conversation he'd been having. When he glanced back at her, she asked. "What do you have at four?"

He was clearly trying to have two conversations at once now, though as he attempted to wrap the first one up, he handed her his schedule without question. She took it and began reading it over, with Sarah also peeking at it. It seemed he also had a tour of the courtrooms, just as the others did.

"Maybe one of the professors recommended you for something?" Sarah offered.

Dominique threw a look as if to say that was ridiculous. "My marks are average at best. And lately I can barely claim anything close to best. And don't they usually tell you? Get you prepared?" She looked ahead, noticing that everyone was splitting up into their groups. "It's more likely that someone got their paperwork mixed up and they've got the wrong Weasley."

Sarah smirked before she reached out and swatted Jack to get him to move along since they were headed to the same group. When he didn't respond, she shrugged him off and said her quick goodbye to Dominique before walking toward the B group. Not even the moment she'd left, Jack finally tore himself away from the other conversation he'd been having.

"You need to go that way," Dominique offered, pointing after where Sarah had gone.

He groaned a little as they finally broke apart. He'd turned and was now taking a few backwards steps away. "Find me at lunch?"

She nodded, noting that her own C group was standing just a few feet away. She again threw him a small smile, which he returned before bumping into someone. It startled him into turning around then. She watched him go, wondering how was it possible to want someone so badly but also be terrified of getting too close to them at the exact same time? Why was she so broken? Why couldn't she just be normal?

She glanced back down at her schedule—her afternoon meeting now staring her in the face. What were you and where did you come from?

* * *

"And here," a tall woman named Valerie—their tour guide through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—was saying as she walked the group of them through the next section of the enormous office, "we have the famous Auror Offices. Now, is anyone here looking into a career as an Auror?"

A quiet Hufflepuff boy called Upton, who'd Dominique had perhaps spoken to twice in her life and both times he's answered with one word, raised his hand. Everyone stared at him, seemingly surprised that he was interested in one of the most difficult and highly trained positions in the Ministry. He barely even talked.

"Excellent," said Valerie, smiling at him. "I'm sure you're well aware how rigorous the requirements are. You will need 'Exceeds Expectations' scores in all core N.E.W.T.s to even be considered for training. So study up!" She laughed. "It is an elite program led by the absolute best man for the job, Mr. Harry Potter, so it only accepts the best of the best."

Upton's hand shot up in the air. "Is he here? Can we meet him?"

Valerie continued to smile a very put-on sort of way. "Mr. Potter is an incredibly busy man, as I'm sure you understand. We may get lucky and see him walking the corridors between meetings, but I ask that you please do not ask him for autographs. That is highly frowned upon." She gestured around the room. "Now, the Auror Department was founded in…"

Dominique sighed. They'd been here an hour and she'd already learned everything from what it took to qualify to become a Hit Wizard, the importance of alcohol regulations across Britain, and the consequences of illegally bewitching muggle artifacts. She was told why a career in Witch Watching or Law Enforcement were terrific opportunities, and why record keeping and administrative registration maintenance was the key to a functioning wizarding society. She had to hand it to the bloke who'd spoken in the Registration Department for even attempting to make record keeping sound interesting,

Upton was still asking question after question about the Auror office, which Valerie was answering as best she could. They still had the entire Wizengamot Administrative wing of the department to get through, all before moving onto the Department of Games and Sports. It seemed they were hitting all the major departments today except for the Department of Mysteries, which was really the only one Dominique would have cared to see. But according to Valerie—in an answer to Marlowe Quinn asking why they couldn't go see it—that you only see the Department of Mysteries if they wish to see you. And they don't wish to see many people.

"Now down this hall are the offices of Wizengamot, which is the judicial center of our Ministry," Valerie was saying. "We are very fortunate that an actual Wizengamot member, Mr. Singh, has offered us an audience to answer any and all questions you may have about what the Wizengamot is and how you can get there one day."

Dominique groaned, noticing that Natalie was standing right beside her sharing her sentiments. The closest Dominique was ever getting to the Wizengamot was if she was ever on trial one day, so this all seemed rather pointless.

Valerie was already harping on about how this office was the heart of the Ministry. It was easily the busiest office they'd seen yet, with desk after desk lined up in rows and people filling each seat. They were pouring over paperwork that continuously flew in from overheard in a constant stream. These seemed to be the clerks who handled the administrative duties and day-to-day affairs of the Wizengamot. Larger offices—those for more important people and, presumably, Wizengamot members—all lined the walls with most of their large oak doors shut to the chaos out here in the main room. Dominique felt dizzy looking around at how busy everyone looked. How did they even get used to all of this?

"We're a touch early for our meeting with Mr. Singh," Valerie said, checking her watch, "so allow me to catch you up on some of the more interesting cases that the Wizengamot had been handling lately."

"I don't see how people can work here," Natalie said as memos and documents flew overhead. "I'm getting anxious just standing in this room."

"It takes a certain kind of person," Dominique agreed, now thinking that someone like Sarah would probably enjoy this sort of thing. She worked well under pressure and was good at multitasking. She'd probably get a kick out of this. She watched the clerks hard at work, though something across the room caught her eye as one of the large oak doors opened and a small group of about five people emerged—the last of whom being her Aunt Hermione.

She was leading the group across the floor and in her direction—presumably toward the exit. Two of the hanger-ons were taking notes as she and the other two individuals—a man and a woman—talked and walked. Dominique couldn't help but notice that several clerks had stopped working as she walked by to watch her and smile politely. She'd always known her aunt was a powerful woman, but it was different to actually see in action. Most of her memories of her came from family gatherings where she was always insisting her children limit their sweets to avoid the extra sugar or the occasional giggles she'd catch after a glass of wine too many on Christmas Eve.

They were about to walk right past, and while Dominique was standing directly in her line of sight, her aunt clearly had tunnel vision at the moment and was entirely focused on what she was doing. She wouldn't be surprised if she walked right by her without noticing, but Dominique felt stupid at least not trying to say hello. She waved a little weakly as she passed, though as she suspected, it went unnoticed as her aunt and her cohorts continued walking.

Or so she thought, because once her aunt had gotten three or four steps away, she suddenly stopped and turned back around. Everyone with her stopped as well, seemingly confused as to what was happening. Her aunt was staring right at her, a surprised smile now present on her face.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said to one of the people she'd been speaking to. "We'll continue in a moment. That's my niece." She walked back over and reached out to give Dominique's arm an affectionate grab. "Dominique. How are you?"

"Doing well," she said, smiling as she noticed her classmates all watching. Whether they actually knew who her aunt was or just sensed she was important in some way, she didn't know. "Taking the Ministry tour with school."

"That's wonderful!" Hermione said, still smiling. "So many fantastic opportunities here. Do you have a particular field of interest?"

Dominique slowly shook her head, suddenly feeling rather intimidated by her aunt's general power persona. She suddenly wished she had a better plan—or at least something she could lie about to sound a bit more impressive. "There's...just...so much here."

Hermione was nodding. "It truly is overwhelming, but follow what your passion is and you'll find your fit. I started out in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures because I was always passionate about restructuring the rights of underprivileged creatures. Eventually I made my way up the ranks here. And next..." She trailed off, "Well, the sky's the limit, right?"

Dominique nodded. "I don't think you can go much higher around here, Aunt Hermione. You've done it all."

"You'd be surprised," she said with a funny sort of smile. "How's your brother? Have you heard from him?"

"Not recently, no."

The people her aunt had been walking with were now indicating that they needed to continue on, to which Hermione acknowledged before looking back at Dominique. "We're all keeping a close eye on that Tournament. He needs to get back in one piece. I've actually talked to quite a few people around here who are very keen to recruit him."

"Unsurprising."

Hermione laughed a little, at least somewhat amused by her reaction. "Please let me know if you find anything here you're interested in. I can easily talk to some people and get you a meeting."

"Unless you know anyone on any pro-Quidditch teams, I think I'm alright."

"You'll want to talk to Ginny about that," she said, half turning as if to excuse herself. "I'm not much help there. Did you see Harry? I think he's in the office today. Hard to say where his schedule sends him." She pointed back to the people who were waiting for her. "But I'm so sorry. I need to be downstairs. It was lovely to see you. Send Rosie my love, will you?"

"I will," she said, watching as her aunt was off again, her small entourage following her out the door. She'd always heard her aunt had been exceptionally clever—a top of her class, best at everything type—which of course reminded her of Louis. Dominique had to wonder if in twenty years time, her brother would walk these corridors in a similar fashion. It definitely wasn't going to be her.

She turned around and saw that her entire tour group was gone, though Valerie was standing there and seemed to be waiting for her. Dominique looked around, wondering where everyone had run off too.

"I'll lead you to Mr. Singh's office," Valerie said, gesturing for her to follow. She glanced back at Dominique a little curiously as they walked. "You know Ms. Granger?"

"Yes."

"She's a lovely woman," she said. "When I heard she was the Minister's first choice as a replacement, I was relieved because I think she'd do a great job. I think the people would be behind it given her impressive history. She hasn't accepted the nomination yet, but everyone around here thinks she will."

Dominique looked over at her. While she'd heard all of those words and knew what they meant, she hadn't understood anything she'd just said. "Replacement as...Minister of Magic?"

Valerie nodded.

"When did Shaklebolt decide to quit?"

"The Minister," she corrected, emphasizing every syllable of that word, "will step down this June. He made the announcement at the start of the year."

"Huh," Dominique muttered, wondering how on earth something like that had slipped past her. She had been busy lately, but that seemed like pretty big news. Not as big as the fact that her aunt may be the next bloody Minister of Magic, which was...that was huge. That was next level. Shit. She didn't even know what to make of that, How has no one mentioned that? Did they not even know? Had she just gotten an insider scoop?

"Here you are," Valerie said, stopping in front of a large oak door and slowly opening it. "Your friends are inside with Mr. Singh. Please be quiet as you enter."

Dominique was happy to now have this new knowledge of her aunt's potential enormous career jump to occupy her thoughts while this Singh character nearly bored them all to death with tales of the least interesting cases the Wizengamot had ever tired. Instead of making it sound at all interesting by telling them about Death Eaters or war crimes, he seemed to have a hard-on for financial issues and tax evasion.

Dominique was happy to have come in at the end and got to stand near the door, because it at least offered her a view out the window and back out into the main floor, where she'd made a game of watching clerks tackle their flying paperwork memos.

"Kill me," Natalie whispered once they shuffled out of the office and back into the main room. "This department never seems to end."

"I think that's it," Dominique offered, looking around for Valerie in the hopes that she would now lead them out of this place and out into one of the small, equally as boring, but different departments. She wasn't even sure Valerie was coming with them for the rest of this tour, but she was the only way they were currently getting out, so she needed to—

"Hey you," came a voice that happened to poke her in the side in passing. When she turned to look, standing there was Stewart Reynolds, still as ridiculously handsome as ever and perhaps even more so since the clerks were required to dress rather smartly. He looked very put together as he held a folder in his hand and grinned at her. "Long time no see."

She smiled at him, which was nearly impossible not to when he turned that grin on her. Beside her, Natalie actually gasped. She wasn't even nonchalant about it—she gasped and was now openly staring at him.

"It has been," she said, and giving Natalie a side-eye as Stewart politely turned his smile onto her. "This is where you work?"

"This is where I work," he said, briefly turning that smile onto someone else in their group who he seemed to recognize. "You taking the tour? Thinking about a career in Law?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

He laughed. "It's not for everyone. I love it, though."

"I suppose someone has to," she muttered, gesturing around the room. "This room is so chaotic it gives me a headache standing here. I don't know how you deal with it."

"You get used to it," he said, with a shrug. "But I need to get these," he held up his folder, "to where they belong." He threw her another dashing smile as he started to walk away. "You look terrific, though. It was good to see you."

"She's got a boyfriend," Natalie said randomly, choosing now to speak for the first time.

"Good to see you, too," Dominique called after him, though she turned onto Natalie and looked at her as if she was absolutely mental. "Really?"

She wasn't even listening. She was still watching Stuart walk away in a complete daze, as if he'd left behind some sort of love potion in his wake.

"You do actually have a boyfriend. Remember?"

"He's so fit, it hurts to actually look at him," Natalie mumbled before she looked back at Dominique.

"For the love of Merlin. He's just a person."

"He was very chatty with you."

Dominique laughed in disbelief. "He didn't even say anything, so where do you…?" She shook her head. She wasn't sure she actually wanted Natalie to answer that question. "I've already been there and done that, so I'm alright. Not to mention, who has the patience to be with someone that handsome? It'd be exhausting."

Natalie shrugged. "I mean, Jack is cute and all, but Stuart is…" She actually swooned.

"Well, I prefer Jack," she said, the words coming out without much thought.

Natalie closed her eyes and inhaled slowly. "I don't understand you."

"You really shouldn't try to," Dominique said, shrugging as she finally saw that Valerie had returned to gather them and take them to whatever the next boring department was.


	23. The Orb

It was strange to be greeted by her brother's face everywhere she went as they toured the Department of International Magical Cooperation, but there he was—on posters and flyers, along with Zara and the other champions—all promotional material for the Tournament. While the offices clearly supervised everything that involved other governments and countries' affairs, it was obvious that the Tournament was their number one item taking up much of the department's time at the moment. She'd even noticed a board labeled "Hogwarts Task" while they'd been walking, but she'd been unable to see much of it given where they were standing.

They weren't allowed to enter that room and the door had been quickly shut as they passed. It was actually the shortest tour of the day. Their guide—a bloke named Vulric—was constantly telling them that, unfortunately, they were not allowed access to many areas given the secretive nature of the Tournament.

"I bet Sarah loved this," Natalie muttered as they walked past the largest Tournament poster yet—with Louis and Zara's pictures front and center. "But I have to admit, that's a sexy photo of him."

"Gross," Dominique muttered.

At a quarter to four, just as the group was beginning to wrap up their tour, Dominique managed to pull aside Vulric and ask where she would be able to find office 515 for her scheduled appointment. She'd been paying attention for the entire tour, but hadn't seen any offices labeled with that number. Perhaps it had been amongst the ones they were quickly shuffled past, but even if she had seen it, everything felt like a maze at this point. Vulric had seemed skeptical as to why she needed to access that part of the department, but after going to check with someone out of sight, he'd returned and said he would take her to where she needed to be once he'd handed the rest of the group off to their next guide.

While she was still completely confused as to why this appointment even existed, she was also rather curious as to what she was in for. Whatever it was, she had no desire to pursue it unless it was a meeting with a Quidditch team. She was rather confident that—even with Louis' bloody photographs on their walls—she was going to get there and someone would realize she wasn't him and they'd sent this to the wrong person. If she was a betting woman, she would have put all of her money on that.

Someone from the courtrooms had come to collect the rest of her group for their tour, and as uninterested as Dominique was to actually go along, she was a little disappointed that she didn't get to join everyone else. She wanted to see her friends, and especially Jack; now finding that she was starting to miss him when he wasn't around.

That feeling was a strange and new development. She rationally knew it was only another hour or so until she got to see him again, but that hour also seemed unbearably long when all she wanted to do was get to the end of it. She'd so badly wanted to freeze their time together at lunch so that it didn't have to end—even if Natalie had tried to cause some waves.

"We ran into Stuart Reynolds," Natalie randomly told their friends around a circular table in the Ministry's dining area as they picked at cold sandwiches and crisps.

"Oh, he and Nic are friends," Sarah teased as Dominique glared at Natalie. "How is he doing? Still look as good as he used to?"

"Better," Natalie said as if it were fact, which was strange considering Flynn was sitting right next to her. He didn't react one way or the other and was busy attempting to throw crisps up in the air and catch them in his mouth while Jack watched and counted. "You should have seen him in his smart looking robes. You remember how we'd just sit and watch Ravenclaw practice all the time?"

"That was the most interested I've ever been in Quidditch," Sarah said, earning her an eye roll from Dominique.

"He was flirting with Nicki, too."

"He was not," Dominique said, now throwing her a silencing look. For fuck's sake, was any of this conversation necessary? "He said hello and we talked about his job for all of thirty seconds before he left. That was it."

"And he said you looked good."

"In a polite way," Dominique protested, though it didn't stop her from wanting to whip out her wand and stun Natalie where she sat. This could not have been a more awkward conversation for her to be having, considering Jack was sitting directly beside her.

"But don't worry," Natalie said in a reassuring sort of way, now addressing Jack. "She wasn't interested. Even said she'd pick you over him."

"Awww, how sweet," Sarah said, her tone very much taking the piss since she had to be well aware of how much this entire exchange was slowly killing Dominique.

She closed her eyes and actually felt her face getting hot. She was so happy that her feelings and emotions—which she was always so careful to keep locked away inside—were now on display for everyone else to see and laugh at. So very happy.

"I'm getting pudding," Natalie said, apparently now done with her reign of obnoxious terror. She looked at Flynn. "Are you?"

Flynn laughed as if that was a dumb question, having already started to stand. "I thought you'd never ask."

They both disappeared in the direction of the food; Dominique stared daggers at them as they went. She could see Sarah smirking at her from across the table, though she hadn't chanced a look at Jack. When she finally did, he was grinning as well. She let out a tiny, embarrassed sort of groan and let her head drop. She was not the person who let the world in on her emotions. She was supposed to be guarded.

"She'd pick you over Reynolds," said Sarah, followed by the sound of a chair scraping as if she was standing. "She was holding your hand earlier. For her, that's pretty much the equivalent of marriage."

"Are you done?" Dominique asked, looking up at her.

Sarah smiled at her before stepping back, evidently following the other two in search of pudding. As she strolled past Jack, she patted him on the shoulder and added, "Whatever you're doing, keep it up, mate."

"I hate you," Dominique called after her. She reached up to rub her face. "I hate everyone."

"Even me?" Jack asked, his grin rather affixed to his face at the moment. "I didn't do anything."

"No, not you," she mumbled, looking over at him. "Though, I feel life was a lot easier when I did."

He laughed as he made a gesture of moving his chair closer to her. He placed his arm on the back of her seat in a casual way. "So, you'd pick me?"

"Natalie told me I was dumb."

He made a face as if to say that Natalie could piss right off, but he shook it off rather quickly. "She's dating Flynn. That tells you all you need to know about her judgement. I mean, I know Reynolds is stupid kinds of handsome, but I'm not so bad."

She laughed before settling into a smile aimed directly at him. He had the patience of a saint and she had to wonder what exactly she brought to the table to even make him put up with her.

She quickly looked around the room, noticing that it was completely filled with so many people and so much going on. She'd already been pushed this far, why not go the whole way? What did she have to lose? She leaned over and kissed him quickly. In a crowded room full of people.

Now, it was his turn to glance around the room, as if he was attempting to remind her that there were people around. "Really?"

She shrugged and tried to play it all off as cool and casual. "You're better looking than Reynolds."

"That's a blatant lie, but I appreciate you saying it."

It had turned into a really nice moment and she had come out the other end in one piece, which was something that had surprised even her. She'd shown herself that she was capable of doing this because she wanted to. She wanted him, so if she had to work on some of her weirder quicks, so be it. As long as he was patient, which he'd proven he was, they may have this figured out soon enough. She felt so close to actually being able to make something happen.

And it had come none too soon, considering she needed to ride that high after lunch once she was led directly into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—which was where Davies worked. She'd been on high alert during the entire tour and had even put the hood of her robe up as they passed through the "Being Division" where she knew he was stationed.

Natalie had asked her what the point in hiding was, considering he'd obviously see a tour of Hogwarts students coming through and put the pieces together. Dominique chose to ignore her. She luckily hadn't seen him at all, which meant he was thankfully somewhere else. Something was clearly on her side that day.

When it was close to four o'clock, Vulric had led her down a long corridor which led to yet another long corridor. This entire building was a maze wrapped in a puzzle as far as she was concerned; she really had no idea how anyone was supposed to find anything. They finally started passing the numbered office; 511, 512, 513, 514, and finally stopped outside of an ordinary looking door labeled 515. Vulric even took the liberty of knocking for her, though there was no immediate response.

"What division of the department is this?" she asked.

"Just general international affairs," he said. "These are conference rooms."

"So, this isn't anyone's office?"

He shook his head, just as noises behind the door indicated that someone was about to open it. Once the door pulled open, a woman with a dazzling smile and corkscrew curls stood there looking very...red. Fashionable red robes, red heels, red lipstick. She apparently had never heard the expression less is more.

"Good afternoon," she said to the both of them in highly accented English. She nodded at Vulric, as if to thank him, and turned directly to Dominique. "Happy to see you have found us. Thank you for coming."

The woman gestured for Dominique to enter as Vulric excused himself. Dominique almost wished he hadn't. She didn't know him, but him being there made her oddly feel less intimidated about walking into that room.

She crossed the threshold, noticing immediately that there was a large rectangular table in the center of the room that looked as if it could seat about ten people. On the opposite side, four people sat—though only one of them was actually at the table. The other three were in chairs back against the wall. They all looked at her as she entered.

"Would you like something to drink?" the red woman asked, having shut the door behind her.

Dominique shook her head as the red woman walked around the table to have a seat next to the other gentleman. Of the people in the back, two men and a woman, two of them were holding large rolls of parchment and had their quills at the ready. The other man, who had his long, dark hair piled up on top of his head in a top knot, did nothing but watch her.

"Have a seat," said the red woman, who then gestured to the lone chair on Dominique's side of the table.

She stared at it, but didn't move. "What's this about exactly? I'm not sure why I'm even here."

The gentleman at the table, who was dressed far more plainly in boring, grey robes, smiled at her. "Have a seat and we'll get to that," he said, his voice completely free of an accent.

"I didn't sign up for anything," Dominique said as she slowly edged toward the seat. "I don't know what this is for, but I have no real interest in working in...international whatever.'

"No?" asked the red woman. "Why not?"

She shrugged as she sat down. "I want to play Quidditch."

"Ah, yes," she said with a quick nod at the gentleman. "I've read you're quite the Quidditch player. A Seeker, I believe. You scored well at the Trials, no?"

"I…" she faltered slightly. "I did alright."

"Oh, I seem to remember it being better than alright," she said, turning around to look at one of the scroll holders. "What was the number?"

"A seven," the woman responded.

"A seven," the red woman repeated, turning back to Dominique. "Very impressive. Much better than alright, I think."

Dominique's brow furrowed. Why did they know that? Why did they know anything about her? What else was on that scroll?

"Quidditch is a wonderful aspiration, but you should always have a backup plan in case it does not work out," the red woman continued.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Lisette Laurent. I work for the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France." She gestured to the man beside her. "This is—"

"Zacharius Smith. I'm her British counterpart here in the Department of International Cooperation."

"Ok…?" Dominique said, realizing that hadn't answered her question. Also, was no one going to introduce the people in the back? It certainly didn't seem as if that was going to happen. "Why am I here?"

"Why do you think you're here?" Lisette asked.

Dominique stared at her. Was she serious? Did she really think she would have asked if she had any idea? "I thought maybe you meant to invite my brother and accidently got me instead."

Lisette smiled at her, though this time it was far more reserved and less dazzling. "Your brother is away for the tournament."

"You don't say."

"That would have been quite a mistake to make considering he's become a bit of a celebrity around here," Zacharius said with a small laugh, glancing over at Lisette briefly. "No, Dominique, you're the one we were hoping to speak to. The timing of it all is rather fortunate because we believed we'd have to travel to Hogwarts to see you, but then got word that you would be here today. It worked out well for all of us."

"What has?" she asked, now getting annoyed that no one was telling her anything useful. "I still don't know why I'm here."

"You're here," Lisette said, "because we'd like to talk to you about your brother."

She blinked. Everyone in the room was staring at her again, though no one was speaking. They apparently were going to leave that hanging in the air.

"Is he ok?"

"Oh, yes," Zacharius said while Lisette nodded. "Last I heard, he's doing very well."

"Of course he is," Lisette added. "At Beauxbatons, they know how to take care of their guests." She made a quick face. "Durmstrang and Hogwarts could learn a thing or two."

"Regardless," Zacharius interrupted. "He's fine."

Dominique continued to stare at the two of them. They wanted to talk about Louis. Why? What did they want to know? They had a scroll's worth of information behind them that knew detailed information about her, she was sure they had just as much, if not more, information about Louis. What did they want from her?

"Have you heard from him recently?" Zacharius asked.

"No."

"Being twins, that must offer you a very special sort of bond."

That wasn't even a question, so she continued to stare at them. They didn't need to dig deep for this; they could have asked anyone with a subscription to the Daily Prophet for these details.

Lisette and Zacharius exchanged quick glances while one of the men in the back, the one with his dark hair up in a bun, suddenly leaned forward in his seat to whisper something to Lisette. She nodded and turned back to Dominique. "We are just attempting to get to know our champions better by talking to the people they are closest to. We have it on good authority that you would do anything to help your brother. Is that true?"

"Yes, obviously, but I don't—"

"Then we can help each other."

"Look," Dominique said, feeling more than annoyed that this was happening. "I've been getting asked to do interviews on my brother for weeks now, and it's just not something I'm interested in. I don't know if you're writing a story—"

Zacharius shook his head. "We are not the press. Anything you say in here stays in the room."

"Why?" she asked, genuinely feeling confused. "Why do you need to know things about Louis that you can't find out by reading his files or talking to him? What are you looking for?"

Lisette turned around to the man with the top knot, who immediately shook his head. When she turned back to Dominique, her face was sympathetic. "It's all part of a bigger picture. I unfortunately can't share those details with you."

"Then I can't share anything with you either. It seems we're done here."

Lisette and Zacharius exchanged looks again while the scribes in the back were feverishly writing something down. The man with the bun stood up and was now reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, glass orb that reminded Dominique of a Remembrall. He approached the table and spoke to her in a very thick accent.

"'Hold this."

She stared at it before letting her gaze travel to Lisette and Zacharius, both of whom were silently encouraging her to do it. "What is it?"

"'Hold this." the man repeated, holding it up closer to her so that she could get a better look. It was barely bigger than a Snitch and completely transparent. For all she could tell, it was an empty glass ball. She didn't want to take it, but did ofer a finger to give it a quick poke.

"It's just a means of—" Listete began, though she never got to finish that sentence. Apparently, Dominique didn't have to actually hold the orb for it to do what they wanted it to do because simply tapping it had caused it to flash an almost blinding light in her face. Her head suddenly felt as if it were being—for lack of a better term—emptied out. It was the most bizarre feeling she'd ever experienced in her life, as if everything she ever knew or thought was gone; erased from her mind entirely for several seconds.

She couldn't even remember her name, where she was, or who they were. It lasted all of ten seconds before she felt herself slump in her chair; her brain suddenly began to refill itself back up with it's thoughts and knowledge, almost as if someone was pouring them back in. It took a good minute, but slowly, everything began to clear itself up.

The man with the bun pocketed the ball in his robes and suddenly turned to walk the length of the room; out an adjoining door. Within seconds, he'd exited into the next room without so much as a glance behind him.

"Let me assure you that nothing you just felt will give you any lasting effects," Zacharius said. "Within the next half an hour or so, you'll feel completely fine."

"What the...fuck...did you...happened to me?" Dominique asked, everything still fuzzy and strange and she rubbed her face rapidly. Lisette—who Dominique hadn't noticed left her seat—had returned with a glass of water and was attempting to hand it to her. She didn't take it. She didn't want anything these people were offering her.

"It is nothing that will harm you," Lisette reiterated. "Sometimes, we take shortcuts."

"Shortcuts to what?!"

Lisette smiled, though Dominique now found it rather unsettling to look at. "It will all make sense soon enough. If you can stand, you are free to go."

Free to go? Had she ever not been free to go? She immediately stood, happy that her legs worked as she needed them too. This entire room and the people in it were now giving her the creeps. The Ministry was a creepy place when she actually thought about it. These long corridors where people were doing who knows what behind closed doors. She just wanted to get out. She needed to get out.

Lisette was holding the door for her and Dominique walked through it and out into the long, dark hallway which only heightened her sense of anxiousness. She barely remembered where to go to get back, but she wasn't about to ask the people in that room anything more. She almost felt as if she was being watched; a strange adrenaline fueled sense of panic washed over her once she heard the door from room 515 snap shut behind her. She practically jogged away.

She'd remember the turn Vulric had taken her down, which led her down a wider, longer, and—while she hadn't noticed earlier—a much better lit corridor. While her thoughts had returned to normal, her anxiety was off the charts. What had that bright light been? What had it done to her? What were they going to do with it and what did it have to do with Louis?

How had anyone allowed that to happen? Surely, her professors had to have known what was happening or else they wouldn't have put the appointment on her schedule. She momentarily thought of her parents and whether someone would have needed their permission, but then it occurred to her that she was an adult now. She was on her own.

The main offices of the department came into view at the end of the corridor and Dominique stopped jogging. Everything seemed so boring and normal out here, with people working at desks, drinking cups of tea, having conversations. She needed to figure out how to get to someone she knew, which meant she'd have to get to the courtrooms. She wasn't even sure what floor they were on.

She pushed through the office and walked straight to the lifts. There was a small group of people already waiting, and Dominique immediately felt nervous at their presence. She couldn't trust anyone right now; whether that was an effect of whatever the bright light had done to her or because she just hated everyone because it had happened in the first place. She needed to find Jack or Sarah or someone she knew.

The lift was half full when it opened and Dominique hesitantly boarded as the lift operator began asking people for their destinations. The group who had been waiting with her had said level four, and Dominique was still busy trying to read the key on the wall and figure out where the courtrooms were. The operator must have assumed she was with the other group because he let the lift lurch up from level five to four with no further questions, stopping to let out at least five to six people. A few more people got on right as Dominique realized that the courtrooms were down on level 10. She was about to ask for the operator to take her there when someone spoke.

"Uh, Dominique?"

She whipped around, far more sharply than she usually would, and was greeted with Davies standing there. Upon seeing him, she was an odd mixture of startled and slightly relieved to see someone she knew. He seemed just as surprised to see her.

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking her up and down. "You look ill."

"What floor?" the lift operator asked him.

"Atrium," he said without taking his eyes off Dominique. "What are you even doing here?"

"School trip," she said as the lift stopped on the sixth-floor and allowed people to exit. "I'm on the school trip."

"I assumed that," he said as the lift lurched down again. "I saw some people come through earlier. I meant, what are you doing here in the lift? What floor are you even going to?"

"Dunno," she mumbled. "Courtrooms?"

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"No."

The doors to the Atrium opened and the lift operator gestured to Davies to say this was his stop. Davies hesitated as he continued to address her. "Do you need some tea or something? Maybe you should sit down."

Tea sounded nice. Sitting sounded even nicer now that she was free from that cold room upstairs. She nodded at him and he mentioned he knew a place she could get some if she followed him. The lift operator looked at her as if silently asking whether she was getting off and, after glancing at Davies one last time, decided that a familiar face was a familiar face. She honestly couldn't trust him, but she could at least trust him not to freak her out.

There was a small cafe in the Atrium that sold pastries and hot drinks. Dominique had seen it when she'd arrived and it was the exact place Davies was headed given the direction he was walking. He slowed down to allow her to catch up.

"Why are you on your own? Where's everyone else?"

"I...I had things to do. I was looking for them. They're in the courtrooms."

"The courtroom are fucking boring," he said once they reached the end of the queue for the cafe. "You're not missing anything."

"I don't see how they can be any more dull than the rest of this place," she muttered, glancing around as the hustle and bustle of people rushing off to wherever it was in this vast building that they needed to be. "Why aren't you working? Are you on a break or something?"

He nodded. "I was actually coming down here to grab some food because I missed lunch."

She nodded as if to acknowledge that, but didn't respond as she continued to stare rather vacantly at the baristas behind the cafe counter. The queue inched forward, though just as they neared the front, she realized she hadn't even brought any money with her. Their lunch had been covered by a voucher she simply presented in the commissary, and she hadn't exactly anticipated needing to spend anything. She sighed. "Nevermind. I forgot to bring money."

He shrugged her off. "Don't worry about it. I'll get you some tea."

She stared at him. A part of her wanted to tell him not to bother—she didn't want to take advantage of anything he was offering because then he'd somehow feel she was indebted to him—but she really wanted something to drink. "I guess."

"Alright," he said as he reached the front of the queue. "Go sit somewhere. I'll take care of it."

She turned away and found a small area nearby with tables scattered around. She managed to find one on the perimeter of the group with a view of the Fountain of Magical Brethren; she sat at one of the two chairs. She slowly started to rub her face, her head feeling as if she were recovering from a Bludger hit. There was a mild fuzziness and a ringing she couldn't seem to shake. What had that orb thing been about? Why hadn't anyone given her any answers?

Davies appeared a moment later. He put his own drink and sandwich down on the table before handing her a paper cup filled with tea. To her surprise, she noticed that he actually remembered how she took it. She wasn't even sure she'd ever told him, but it was exactly the way she liked it.

"Thanks." She sipped it, the warmth of the tea immediately bringing her some comfort. "Why are you being so nice?"

"Because I am nice."

She laughed at that. That was funny.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"Because you can't take a hint," she said. "Or an anvil, in this case. I told you we were done. What else is there to say?"

He sipped his drink and looked off into the crowds for a moment. "At the time, I assumed you were just being a bitch and would get over it. How am I supposed to know you meant it?"

"Because I told you I meant it."

He rolled his eyes. "You say a lot of shit you don't mean."

"Well, this time I did mean it. You talked to the bloody Prophet about me."

"Barely. And I wasn't aware that I wasn't supposed to."

She made a face. That was a pitiful excuse. "You were there that day. You saw me tell them I didn't want to talk to them. You saw me tell them all to piss off. The only reason I even let you into the arena to talk was because I was trying to get away from them. Again, Davies. Take a fucking hint."

He shrugged as he sipped his drink. "Sorry. Didn't know."

"You also never once, in a year, used the word girlfriend, but one reporter asks you for a quote and that's the first thing out of your mouth? Suddenly we're in a relationship. Fuck you."

"Is this about me never wanting to label things between us?" He stared at her. "But when I finally do, you get mad."

"Because I'd already broken up with you!" she shouted. "It doesn't even matter anymore. This conversation changes nothing. I didn't ask you to come with me or buy me this," she held up her cup, "so don't think things are back to the way they were. I've moved on."

"Yeah, I've heard."

"Heard what?"

"You're fucking around with Jack Ians now."

"Who told you that?"

"People," he said casually. "Why is it some sort of secret?"

"It's no one's business, is what it is. Especially not yours."

He laughed. "You two were always chummy," he said in a patronizing sort of way. "I never thought much about it because I figured he didn't ring any of your bells, but I guess things change once you get an almost perfect ranking at the Quidditch Trials."

She found herself glaring. She knew exactly what he was trying to insinuate and he could fuck right off with that.

"You're always so fucking jealous that I can do better than you," she said, looking him straight in the eyes. "You heard I got with Reynolds and you suddenly wanted me back after chucking me. You start seeing my face in the papers and I'm suddenly weirdly popular, you start calling me your girlfriend. Now that I've moved onto Jack, what's next? Are you going to propose?"

His expression turned amused, as if he actually found that funny. "Eh, that's a bit much."

"You had a year and you wasted it," she said, laying her hands down on the table and leaned forward in an aggressive manner. "But now other people aren't wasting it and it drives you mental."

He stared back at her, his expression rather pensive. "You're not wrong."

"And you're always wrong."

"What can I say," he said as he—out of nowhere—reached out and laid his hand on hers, grabbing it in the process.

She looked down at his hands as if it were a foul sort of object, but didn't immediately pull herself away. She felt oddly frozen all by the gall it took for him to fucking do that. Everything since touching that orb felt like it was happening in slow, strange motion.

"I'm never happy with what I have," he said. "And I never realize it until it's too late. It's weird."

She quickly tugged at her hand, but he was still holding it firmly. "You're fucking weird."

"But what does that make you since you kept coming back?"

"That's over," she said, just as she overheard a man at the next table suddenly announce to his associates that it was nearly five o'clock and that they'd continue what they were doing on Monday. It caused her to immediately look at a nearby wall clock and see that it was practically ten to five. She was supposed to meet the rest of her class now; at the fountain directly behind her. She immediately stood up in alarm, pulling her hand away in the process.

"Look, maybe…"

She didn't even bother to acknowledge him. She turned around at that and hoped their visit to the courtrooms hadn't ended yet. Hopefully they were all running a few minutes behind.

Unfortunately, what she saw was the complete opposite. Not only were her classmates finished, but it looked as if her entire class was already standing around the fountain and waiting to leave. Most of them were milling about and chatting; some clearly inspecting the fountain. But the ones she'd been desperately hoping were preoccupied by something—anything—else, looked as if they just arrived. They were currently staring right at her.

Everything was in slow motion. She again felt frozen to the spot—the spot that Davies was still sitting less than a few feet away from. Sarah was staring at her in complete disbelief, her expression begging her to answer what the hell she was doing. When they made eye contact, she began to shake her head before she looked away in an angry sort of stupor.

She could barely bring herself to look at Jack, but she did. His face was completely expressionless; blank as a slate. He didn't turn away as quickly as Sarah had, but when he finally did, she almost felt that he looked the emotional equivalent of being smacked.

Sitting with Davies would have been bad enough to raise a million questions, but if they'd seen the hand thing...Fuck. Why had she even let that happen? What was she thinking?

She wasn't thinking. That was the problem.


	24. Something

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" yelled Sarah once she'd entered their room later on. It had been the place Dominique had immediately retreated to upon returning back to Hogwarts. She'd been there for at least twenty minutes, allowing herself to stare up at the ceiling above her bed and curse herself for being stupid.

She hadn't tried to say anything to Jack or Sarah at the Ministry. An official had turned up shortly after she'd seen them and began instructing them all to follow her toward the fireplace to Hogwarts. Neither of them seemed particularly keen to talk to her and had followed the crowd to leave; Dominique had gotten at the end of the queue behind the group of Hufflepuff girls. They'd returned back to the Great Hall and everyone had stayed for dinner—everyone but her. She'd made a beeline for the exit and headed straight up stairs. Sarah was actually the first person to speak to her since Davies.

She looked at Sarah, but didn't know what to say. She finally mumbled a quiet, "It wasn't…"

"Save it," Sarah said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You said you never wanted to talk to him again! You swore him off! He's supposed to be dead to you, but there you are, having fucking coffee and holding hands?"

"We weren't holding hands. He had...He was trying to...I told him off."

"Yeah, it really looked like it," she said.

"It wasn't what it looked like!" she yelled, noticing the door opening and in walked Natalie. Unlike Sarah, she came in quietly and said nothing. She looked to be observing in an obvious sort of manner.

"The fact that you were even talking to him tells me it's what it looked like!" Sarah shouted back. "He's a shitty person. He's the absolute worst and I genuinely thought you were finally done with him, which meant we were all finally done with him, but..." She started shaking her head a very angry sort of way. "Fuck, Nic. Fuck."

"I know I have a bad track record when it comes to him," she said. "I know in the past I haven't been able to let him go, but I swear to you when I say I told him off. I told him we were done. He was still trying, which—"

"When will you realize that you don't owe him anything? Just don't talk to him! Walk away. Don't be so bloody weak around him."

"Fuck you. I'm not weak."

"When it comes to him, you are!" she said. "And it's exhausting for the rest of us to watch." She stared at her for a long moment. "And don't even get me started on what I bet is going through Jack's head."

Even just hearing Jack's name made her anger dissipate into something more resembling guilt. She felt her face fall. She felt her posture fall. She felt her heart fall into her stomach. "I'll talk to Jack."

"If I were him, I wouldn't even bother," she said, turning away. "I'd cut my losses now because you're impossible. I don't know what is wrong with you and your brother, but neither of you know a good thing when you've got it."

Dominique let that one hang in the air; as much as she wanted to yell how that wasn't fair and for Sarah to go fuck herself, she—for once in her life—said nothing. No sharp barbs, no ruthless remarks. A part of her knew she deserved that. She really was doing everything possible to push Jack away and she didn't even mean to. She didn't want to. But she kept fucking up.

Sarah silently busied herself around the room for a few minutes more before she walked out without another word. She'd spoken her piece and even managed a jab at Louis in the process. Dominique knew she would eventually calm down, especially once she could prove once and for all that Davies was out of the picture. She was mad at her for letting him back into her life for even a moment, and she was mad at her for hurting Jack. Her anger was justified and there wasn't anything Dominique could say to the contrary. She just needed to let her cool down.

"I thought you were avoiding him?" Natalie suddenly asked. She'd been so quiet over there Dominique had forgotten she was here. "You spent the entire time we were in his department hiding from him."

At least she wasn't yelling. "I was. I was in a right state after that meeting I had to go to because they…" She stopped, not really feeling as if this was the time to get into that. "I just wasn't feeling well. He was a familiar face and he offered to buy me a cup of tea when I didn't have any money on me. It snowballed from there. But I really wasn't trying to hold his hand or get on with him. And I really did tell him we were done. We even talked about Jack, for fuck's sake."

Natalie nodded in a sympathetic way. "I believe you."

She stared at her, rather surprised to hear that.

"You really didn't want to see him earlier," she continued. "And I think you really do fancy Jack and you wouldn't try to hurt him."

"I'm not trying to."

"But," she continued, "you also did the exact thing that could hurt him the most. Remember when I told you what Flynn said? That he was afraid to even bother starting anything with you because you were probably just going to end up back with Davies?" She stared at her. "He's really cut up about it."

Her chest clenched. "Did he say—?"

"He didn't say a word to anyone at dinner."

She sighed. "Sarah's right. It's as if I have to turn good things into shit."

"Then perhaps you should stop doing that."

Simple advice. How easy it would have been to follow, but Dominique didn't even know where to start.

She would spend most of the rest of the evening up in her room alone, snacking on a package of black licorice wands she'd had for an unidentified amount of time. After a few hours, she'd gotten antsy and knew she needed to deal with this. If Jack wanted to yell at her or tell her off, it was better to get it over with since she was just avoiding the inevitable at this point. The day was already complete shit, she might as well just end it on a rubbish note as well.

Natalie had returned from her evening spent in the common room to get ready for bed, and Dominique asked if Jack was downstairs. She'd told her he'd come down for a bit, but hadn't said much; he'd worked on some homework and then disappeared back upstairs.

"I also told everyone about how hard I watched you avoid Davies and that I believed you when you said it was nothing, but Jack wasn't around to hear any of that." She sighed. "Of course, Sarah got defensive because that's what she does. Especially when she knows better than everyone else. We ended up having a bit of a row."

Dominique was actually a little moved that Natalie had stood up for her; especially against someone like Sarah, who she knew Natalie was still very much intimidated by. She'd have to remember this the next time Natalie was driving her up the wall.

"Even Flynn was being a real arse about it. It was two against one at that point." She made a face. "The two of them get so carried away they won't even listen."

That was unsurprising to hear. Sarah and Flynn—who'd known each other since they were small—may not have been the best of friends. They were actually as different people as you could get, but they'd always had this random bond built on their long history together. Sarah knew exactly the buttons to push on Flynn to get him on her side, and given that he was probably already angry since he was Jack's friend, it probably didn't take much for the two of them gang up on anyone who didn't fall in line.

"I don't even understand why Sarah is so angry," Natalie continued. "She seems angrier than Jack."

"She hates Davies and hates me when I'm with him," Dominique mumbled, having already analyzed all of this tonight during her long hours of silence.

While it was entirely true Sarah hated Davies, it had actually been the comment she made about her and Louis not knowing a good thing when they had it that had been the most telling. It made Dominique realize that Sarah was projecting her anger—anger she was clearly still carrying around—at Louis onto her. She'd felt betrayed by him; she now felt Dominique had betrayed Jack. That was all it took to trigger her into a bit of a meltdown. In her mind, she had to assume they were essentially the same person now.

"Well, I really don't care for her bringing Flynn into it." Natalie said, rolling her eyes as if she started to realize some things. "The way he was just acting was eye opening."

Great. Not that she cared one way or another about their relationship, but Dominique didn't need this stupid argument that she was at the center of being the reason they split up. She hadn't thought about it until that moment, but there was a reason Natalie was here getting ready for bed instead of over in the boys' room with Flynn like most nights. At the rate they were going, everyone in Gryffindor wouldn't be speaking to each other by morning.

Dominique stood up. "They shouldn't be taking their anger at me out on you."

"Where are you going?"

"To go and remind them it's me they're angry with," she said as she walked to the door and exited into the corridor.

She made her way down the stairs to find Sarah, Flynn, and Eleanor sitting on the central sofa. She felt oddly confident walking over toward them, even if she knew that nothing but their wrath at her actions was coming. She didn't care. Jack was the only person right now who she was afraid to see.

Eleanor noticed her first and immediately looked nervous at her approaching. Sarah turned to see what she was looking at, and her face fell into something resembling annoyance when they made eye contact.

"Look who it is," she said sourly.

"I'm not Louis, Sarah. Stop acting as if I am."

She stared back at her as if that were obvious. "What are you on about?"

She ignored her and instead addressed Flynn. "Is Jack upstairs?"

"He is," he muttered, not looking up from the work he was doing. "But I can't see him wanting to talk to you."

"He can tell me that," she said as she took a step forward before hovering in place for a moment. She turned to look back at Flynn. "And perhaps you should concern yourself more with your own relationship going to shit instead of worrying about mine."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm not the only one who has someone upstairs who doesn't want to speak to them right now," she said, walking past them toward the boys' dormitory.

It wasn't until she was halfway up the stairs that she realized she really hadn't mentally prepared for what she was about to do. What was she going to say to Jack? What could she say to him?

She got to the landing that opened up to the boys' rooms. The door to his wasn't closed entirely, but it wasn't open enough to be able to see anything going on inside. She took a huge breath as she walked toward it. Tell him the truth. That's all she could do. Tell him the truth. Don't be overly defensive. She knew she had a tendency to be overly defensive, so she needed to keep that in check.

She walked forward and knocked three times and said, "Hello?" though there was no answer. She pushed the door forward and let it swing open all the way. Jack's bed, which was furthest left, was the last thing to come into view as she followed the motion of the door. There was no real reveal or huge surprise; no angry looks or curses immediately cast in her direction. All that she was met with was Jack, sitting up in the center of his bed with a book propped open, staring rather blankly at her.

She immediately felt anxious. "Can we talk?"

He shrugged, looking rather disinterested.

She walked over to Louis' empty bed and sat on it. She felt rather rigid and stiff all the sudden; she was now acutely aware of her hands and didn't know where to put them, so she folded them in her lap. Jack had taken his book and shut it before tossing it toward the foot of his bed. He turned to face, but said nothing. He seemed to be waiting for her to start this.

"I don't even know what to say, but it wasn't what it looked like."

"Never is."

She looked at him, immediately feeling defensive and ready to pounce. She reeled it in and took a calming breath. "I told him we were done."

"Didn't you already do that? How many times are you going to tell him that?"

"As many times as it takes until he gets the bloody message," she said. "He was trying to get me to...I don't know. Whatever it was that he wanted, but I told him I was done."

He sighed.

"It's not my fault he keeps trying. He's the one showing up at my house and writing me letters. Not the other way around. You can ask Natalie, I spent the entire day actively avoiding him."

"Then why…?" He trailed off. He didn't even seem to want to finish what he was saying.

"Why was I sitting with him?" Dominique asked with a nod, "I know. I wish I had a better explanation other that he caught me at a really weak moment after that awful meeting I had—which, that's an entirely other mad story altogether—but," she stopped and started to wring her hands, "I ran into him when I needed to see someone—anyone I knew, and...it was a weak moment."

"I feel like whenever he's around, you're having weak moments."

"No, it wasn't that kind of a weak moment," she said quickly. "The weak part had nothing to do with him and everything to do with what happened in that meeting. He was just an unfortunate side effect."

Jack was staring at her as if she'd gone mad. Even she had to admit that she was making little sense and that none of this was helping her case.

"He knew about you. We talked about you."

He laughed a little humorlessly. "What's to talk about? We aren't together. You've been clear about that."

That was a cheap shot.

"The thing is...," he continued, though he looked flustered as he stammered. "Ok, the thing is, I can't..." He looked away. He was struggling to get this out. "I'm not going to compete with that arsehole for your attention."

"There is no competition," she said immediately. "I want him gone as much as you do."

"But yet he's always there!" he said. "He finds a way. And then you say you want nothing to do with him, but the first chance you get, you're sitting there with him on some coffee date."

"It wasn't what it looked like!"

"That's exactly what it looked like! You were holding his hand!"

"He was holding mine!"

They stared at each other. She wondered if there was anything she could say or do to convince him otherwise; whether this was all one big waste of time. He was insecure about Davies and she was insecure about commitment. Maybe all of these bumps in the road was the universe telling her this wasn't meant to be. Maybe they'd fucked up even trying.

"If you're not going to believe me," she said, "then there's nothing else I can say."

"I want to believe you," he said. "But you say one thing and do another. At what point am I the idiot for believing you?"

She stood off of Louis' bed, though kept her gaze on the floor. "If that's how you see it, fine. I'm sorry. For everything." She began walking toward the door before she stopped and turned back around on him. "But I need you to know it was never a competition."

He didn't say anything as she left the room. She walked down the stairs, across the common room—avoiding all eye contact with Sarah or Flynn—and walked straight up the stairs to her own room. She pushed the door open to find it empty, which seemed to be the only thing that day that seemed to be going her way. She immediately climbed into bed, drew the curtains, and let herself fall face first into her pillow. After a few seconds, she couldn't hold it any longer and she let the tears come. This had been exactly what she'd been trying to avoid all along—the feeling of her heart being ripped into hundreds of pieces. Joke was on her since it managed to still find a way.

She didn't know how long she cried, but it was long enough to eventually have put her to sleep. She woke the following morning not remembering when she'd passed out, but she felt someone else's presence beside her in bed. Her eyes fluttered open and she slowly turned over to find her curtains had been pulled back to allow in light. Sarah was sitting beside her.

"Go away," she groaned, though that had been her gut reaction and had nothing to do with the fact that they were currently in a fight. She actually had forgotten about that—and everything else—for a few brief moments before her mind began waking itself up.

"We need to talk," she said, sounding far more awake than she should have for whatever time it was in the morning.

"I don't want to talk." She rolled back onto her stomach; the thoughts of Jack, Davies, the creepy meeting, and her awful day began hitting her one after another after another. "Go away."

"I'm apologizing," she said. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry yesterday. I was up all night thinking about it, and while I think what you did was fucked up, it wasn't my place to get so carried away." She paused for a long moment. "I'm supposed to be your friend and I didn't even bother to listen to your side of the story."

"No shit," she said into her pillow.

"But when you said that stuff about Louis, well, you may have been onto something. I've obviously got some things I'm still processing and I suppose I put myself in Jack's shoes when I saw you with someone else." She looked over at her. "I know you're not Louis. I shouldn't have flown off the handle."

"Whatever. Fine. Let me go back to sleep," she said, her face still buried in her pillow. This was ever so typical of her and Sarah's friendship; except usually, it was her apologizing to Sarah for being a hothead, not the other way around. It was sort of nice to be on this end. Either way, just as she'd predicted yesterday, Sarah would cool down and they'd be fine again. She knew her entirely too well.

Sarah let herself slide down so that she was resting her head on Dominique's other pillow. When Dominique picked up her head to look at her, she made a face. "I meant back to sleep without you, weirdo."

Sarah laughed, though she slowly let it fade as she looked at Dominique's face. "Your eyes are puffy." She frowned. "You were crying."

She turned herself over so she was facing away from her.

"What happened when you talked to Jack?"

"Hates me," she mumbled. "Yelled less than you did, but clearly hates me."

"He doesn't hate you."

She didn't respond. She felt herself wide awake now, despite the fact that she was still hoping Sarah would think she'd gone back to sleep and leave her alone. They were both silent until Sarah finally spoke again.

"When you're up for it, I'd like to try again at hearing your side of the story. No jumping to conclusions."

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She didn't immediately say anything. In fact, she let Sarah sit there for a good five minutes before she finally started telling her the details—slowly at first, but picking up steam as she went. How strange that meeting had been and how it had completely unsettled her, how she'd run into Davies directly afterward, how she'd actually told him off despite all evidence to the contrary, how Jack basically couldn't do this anymore. When all was said and done, Sarah—who'd said nothing the entire time—hummed.

Dominique looked over at her. A hum? That was all she got?

"I wonder what they wanted from you?" she finally said.

She pulled herself up in bed. "Yeah, well it fucked me up. I plan on going down and finding McGonagall or Longbottom or whoever will listen and telling them they need to get to the bottom of things since they're accomplices for allowing it to happen."

"I think you should," Sarah said, sitting up as well. "I don't know how far it'll get you, but you're owed an explanation. It's strange."

"Everything about my life lately is strange. I'm starting to think I'm cursed."

"You're not cursed," Sarah said. "At least, I don't think so. Who knows what they did to you, but if we're talking about the stuff with Jack, that's the sort of drama plenty of people go through."

Dominique rubbed her eyes, feeling immediately how swollen they felt. "I've managed to avoid this shit for years while you all were running around like fools getting your hearts broken and crying over the dumbest things, and now it's as if the world feels I need to play catch up. It's throwing everything at me."

"Please," Sarah muttered. "Wait until you've put entire years of your life into someone and they burn you. Then we can talk." She sat up on her knees and looked directly at Dominique. "You can fix things with Jack."

"Did you miss the part where he hates me?"

"No, he doesn't," she said. "I've seen the way he looks at you. You should have seen the look on his face in Charms the other day when I caught him watching you working."

"Ok, but that was the other day when he didn't hate me."

"He's protecting himself," Sarah said. "You have to realize you and him approach relationships differently. If you two are going to work, you both have to give. He's toned it down and you have to tone it up. Jack's a romantic. He always has been. Think of the poems and the flowers and everything else he'd do for Whit when they were together. You are the opposite of that. Poems and romance make you want to scream."

Dominique said nothing. Yes, the poems were not her thing and they never would be, but she could stomach romance in small, appropriate amounts. She just wasn't sure what that even entailed.

"You two mess around and that seems to be the only common ground you agree on. I'm starting to think the only way you know how to show your feelings is through sex."

That one hit a little too close to home.

"Jack wants nothing more than for you to want him," Sarah began, though when Dominique finally attempted to speak, Sarah cut her off and added, "And not just naked."

"It's not just naked," she snapped. "That's not the only reason."

"Ok," Sarah said. "What else?"

"What else—what?"

"What else do you fancy about him?"

She shrugged. "Because I do."

"Why? Give me reasons. If I'm going to help you, I need to hear real reasons. I need to know this is about more than him looking good with his shirt off and Quidditch."

"So, wait, Quidditch isn't allowed to be a reason?"

Sarah sighed. "It can be a reason. Him having nice arms can be a reason. I just sincerely hope there's more to it. Something a bit deeper."

Dominique looked down at the duvet on her bed. A bit deeper. She had reasons—so many reasons—but she'd never actually stopped to sort them out, let alone list them. And saying them outloud seemed embarrassing. Her cheeks started to feel warm, but the way Sarah was looking at her told her that she wasn't going to be able to joke her way out of this.

"He's funny," she said quietly as she began pulling at her pillow. "But not in a way that's showy, which I appreciate. I like that he's not showy in general, too many guys are . He's probably one of the nicest people I know. Even when I've been hard to deal with—which I know I can be—"

Sarah made a funny noise.

"—he knows how to handle it without being an arsehole. He's always been a really good friend. He's a good listener. He's…" She looked at Sarah, who was looking at her expectantly, urging her to continue. "He's always had my back, mostly in Quidditch, but in other stuff, too." She shrugged. "I don't know, I feel as if everything I've said, you could say to you, too. It doesn't explain why I fancy him, I just do. I like the way I feel when he's around. No one else makes me feel like that."

Sarah grinned a little. "Alright then. Let's fix this. Valentine's Day is in a few days, and let's hope to put things right by then. I can talk to him and help smooth things over, but talk is useless unless you're willing to make the effort."

"But I really didn't do anything wrong," Dominique argued. "Yes, I get the Davies thing doesn't look great, but all I did was talk to him. I didn't do anything. I was telling him we're done. I sort of feel as if Jack's overreacting."

"He's not," Sarah said immediately. "Just accept that, in this instance, you fucked up. You know I'd be in your corner if I thought I should be, but I'm with Jack on this. While I believe you, I wouldn't if I were in his shoes. You've got a terrible history with Davies."

"How am I supposed to make a bloody effort if he doesn't believe me?"

"For starters, you need to show him how you feel. That's what he wants. You need to go a little out of your comfort zone. You need to do what you did on the Witch's Wordplay board and spell it out. Because you made the effort then, look what happened? It worked. You even got an orgasm out of it."

She laughed a little, which seemed to be Sarah's intention.

"He'll respond to effort. What he won't respond to is nothing—which is what I know you're thinking of doing since you think he hates you and things are over. He's not going to chase you because he has to be thinking that he's put himself out there and yet you're still running off to chat up your ex."

"I wasn't—!"

"It's what he thinks. Change his mind."

Change his mind. That was easier said than done. Sarah had gone to speak to Jack, though nothing new had really come from the conversation that he hadn't already told Dominique. He thought she was still hung up on Davies and he wasn't going to deal with it. Sarah had asked him if he could still be friends, to which Jack said that, while being around her was hard because he still had feelings for her, he was aware they couldn't avoid each other.

This was especially true with Quidditch, so it would be easier to get along than not. It was the reason he never fought much when Sarah dragged him over to their table or insisted he sit with them in class. Dominique could see it all over his face that he'd accepted that being cordial was easier than not. When they were sitting beside each other, she could practically feel the tension—awkward, sexual, and frustrated—between them. It was palpable.

"The two most important things to take from my conversation with him," Sarah told Dominique, "is that he still has feelings for you and that he's willing to be around you and keep things cool. Feelings plus time spent together can open up a lot of opportunities."

"Am I supposed to do something?" Dominique asked.

"Yes. We've established that you have to do something. Bloody hell, that's literally the only thing you have to do."

"I get that, but what does that even mean? Do I just act normal? Do I flirt? I'm a shitty flirt. I shouldn't do that." She made a groan of a noise. "This is stupid."

"For now, just be present," Sarah said. "Be friendly. Be normal. The more normal things are, the more things feel familiar, and the easier it is to slip back into what made you fall for each other in the first place."

Be normal. That was easy for her to say. Normal had never been something Dominique was very good at, even if Sarah had obviously meant her version of normal. She would always end up too far into her head; overthinking everything and second guessing all of her thoughts and actions.

She took that advice to Quidditch practice with her on the eve of Valentine's Day with the hopes of somehow conveying normalcy—while feeling anything but. If there was anywhere she could pass it off, the pitch was that place. When in doubt, her love and knowledge of Quidditch could always supersede her problems. Their match against Ravenclaw was that weekend, which meant stress levels were already higher than normal. She already missed the days when big matches were her biggest concern.

Slytherin and Hufflepuff had squared off in a tight match the previous weekend, and no one was quite sure whether Hufflepuff had improved or Slytherin was simply getting worse without Zara. The match was tight, though in the end, Slytherin had pulled out the win—giving them a two and two record. Hufflepuff was zero and four. Gryffindor was two and one. Ravenclaw was undefeated. If Ravenclaw won this weekend, it was practically a guaranteed undefeated season. If Giggleswick went down in the school records as a captain of an undefeated team, Dominique would never forgive herself.

She knew that this match was absolutely make or break. They had to win. They absolutely had to. They couldn't leave anything up to chance and she needed to focus on that rather than her boy drama—even if that boy was currently standing directly in front of her.

"So, Kenley's sick," Jack said to the team, addressing them in a very straight forward fashion. "She won't be here today."

"Sick, how?" Eatins asked, immediately looking over at Tommy. Dominique looked at him as well. He and Kenley were...friends? More than friends? Fuck buddies? She couldn't keep track, but he'd know better than all of them what her status was.

"Flu or something," Tommy said. "It's bad enough that Pomfrey pumped her full of potions and told her to spend the night in the hospital wing."

"Is she going to be better by Sunday?" asked James.

Tommy shrugged. "Hope so."

"She's got days to work it out of her system," Jack said. "That being said, if it's one of those weird magical flus that she can't beat right away, we'll need to start thinking about bringing in alternates."

"Do we even have an alternate Keeper?" Alice asked.

"We do not," said Dominique as she rested her head against her broomstick. They had alternates who came to practice occasionally to keep up with plays and workouts, but they were almost exclusively for the Chasers and weren't fit for the other positions. Some teams had another Keeper in the wings if they were lucky, but Gryffindor wasn't one of them. As far as Dominique was concerned, they barely had a starting Keeper.

Jack's plan for positions other than Chaser always had more to do with sliding people around. James was their backup Seeker in the event Dominique couldn't play, but that was the only official switch they had. When it came to Beaters and a Keeper, it was up to Jack to make a match time decision.

"Alice, what do you think about giving the rings a go?" Jack asked her.

Alice made a face that was somewhat terrified. She was small and lithe—fast as hell on a broom because she weighed next to nothing—but she was essentially the opposite of everything a Keeper should be. Kenley wasn't an ideal build either, but she was stronger and more muscular. Alice looked as if one misplaced Quaffle would knock her straight off her broom. She was a fair Chaser because she had a talent for avoiding Bludgers, but she wasn't allowed to avoid things as a Keeper, so that skill was moot.

"Just so I follow," Dominique began, glancing at Jack. "you're suggesting that we put the youngest, smallest, skinniest person on the rings?"

Jack stared at her. This was normal as far as she was concerned. That's what Sarah told her to do. She'd always challenged his questionable decisions if she thought they weren't in the team's best interest. She'd even been rather cool about it. There wasn't any harshness in her tone, but there was clearly a coldness between them. Despite being normal, her questioning him felt stranger than it would have a month earlier.

"My thought," Jack explained, "is that we need Potter and Eatins at Chaser because they put up points quickest, and with a team like Ravenclaw we need to attack fast. Alice is quick on rebounds and assists, but I can plug in one of the alternates and have them specifically do rebounds all match."

"But Ravenclaw attacks fast, too," she said, "and—no offence to Alice—but Jack, you're essentially giving them open rings with her there."

"It's not ideal. I understand that," he muttered. "But I wanted to try her there and see if—"

"What about Tommy?"

"What about me?" Tommy asked, picking his head up at the sound of his name.

She gestured to his six foot, broad shouldered frame. "He's far better equipped, size wise. He has natural defender instincts as a Beater."

"Who's going to be Beating, then?" Tommy asked. "One of the alternates? They can't fly with a bat in their hands. Everyone knows Beating is the hardest position to just pick up."

That was true. That bat did do a number on people who'd never held one before. Dominique took a deep breath and looked at Jack. "I know you don't want to lose your partner because it makes your job that much harder, but if anyone can pick up the slack for Tommy, it's you. And we'd at least have a better chance at protecting the rings with him there."

"Are you taking the piss?" Tommy asked, looking over at Jack. "You're not listening to this, are you?"

Jack hadn't said anything and was instead looking up at the rings. He turned back to Tommy, who was staring at him as if silently begging him not to say the words.

"If you plug an alternate in," Tommy protested, "you're essentially Beating all by yourself against Ravenclaw. Not Hufflepuff. Not even Slytherin. Ravenclaw. That's a death wish."

"I spent my entire fifth-year Beating by myself," Jack said with a small smirk. "You forget how terrible you were when you started."

"Not the time for jokes, mate," he said. "Ravenclaw is far better now than they were back then."

Jack threw Dominique a look before looking at the ground. "We may honestly be worrying about nothing and Kenley will be back, but…" He sighed. "It doesn't hurt to take some time out later and have Tommy try to stop some Quaffles."

Tommy yelled, "Fuck," loudly. He wasn't happy about that at all.

Tommy and Alice ended up taking turns at the rings to see what they could do. Alice, to her credit, did manage to stop exactly six of twenty Quaffles. She also, however, screamed every time a Quaffle came in fast and while she always apologized, she claimed she couldn't help it.

Tommy stopped twelve. He cursed and bitched the entire time, and Dominique even sensed he wasn't working as hard as he could have been out of spite. Still, if that were true, she realized that if he actually tried, he was probably a decent Keeper.

Jack flew by after Tommy finished his last block, though he doubled back and stopped beside Dominique to watch. He was quiet for a long while before muttering, "I really need Kenley to feel better because I don't want to have to play him at Keeper." He looked over at her. "I'm going to have to defend the entire pitch on my own."

"Wouldn't be the first time," she said. "And like I said earlier, if anyone can do it, it's you." She looked at him. "Anyone else, I'd say it was a stupid move and I'd have never suggested it, but you're that good."

Jack didn't say anything. How was that for normal? Legitimate Quidditch advice and she'd even managed a compliment. And even better, they were entirely true and not meant just to get back in his good graces. She could have sworn she saw the faintest traces of a smile that most people wouldn't have even picked up, but she'd become an expert on his facial expressions lately.

"But," she continued. "Let's just hope Kenley gets better."

Jack made a noise of agreement and pulled away after that. Clearly, they were still at a point where their communication was limited to just a few sentences here and there. Every conversation now had a purpose and once that was over, they moved on. That was fine. Baby steps. At least they were talking.

They all landed after that, including a very annoyed looking Tommy. James was apparently looking to either poke the bear or was just awful at reading the room, because he randomly said to Tommy, "You're actually not bad. Have you ever considered playing Keeper?"

"Fuck no, I haven't," he said in a huff. "I don't even know how to fly without my bat."

"To be fair, you barely know how to fly with it either," Dominique offered.

"And you can fuck off most of all because this was your idea," Tommy said as they all began cleaning up and collecting their equipment. "I'm personally going down to the kitchens tonight to get soup for Kenley and then I'll nurse her back to health, so she can get her arse out here on Sunday. I'm not Keeping."

"Yeah, sure, _that's_ the reason," said Eatins as the two of them gathered their brooms. "It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you've got it bad."

Tommy fake laughed before letting his face go completely cold. "Shut up."

"Stop acting as if you don't," Eatins muttered. "Did you do anything for her for Valentine's Day tomorrow?"

"Bought flowers like everyone else," Tommy mumbled, picking up his bat and swinging it around back and forth. "Not that it matters because I'm fairly certain five other blokes did as well."

"Yeah, but she seems to fancy you. Everyone says so."

Tommy laughed. "That's the thing with her, she seems to fancy everyone she talks to. That's her personality. She's hard to read."

"Yeah, but you're at the top of her list. You have to be."

"Therein lies the problem. The fact that there's a list in the first place. Why does there have to be a list? Why can't it just be a single name?"

Dominique stared at the two of them, having listened to their entire conversation while she cleaned up. That last comment had struck a chord with her. She glanced over at Jack, who was well within earshot while helping Alice and James put Quaffles away.

"How do you know it's not a single name?" she asked bluntly, her attention on Tommy. "Have you seen an actual list?"

He glanced over at her, surprised to hear her commenting. "No. There's obviously not an actual list. But there are people who fancy her and they're always trying to win her over. It's not hard to see that if she wanted to make one, she could."

"But she hasn't," Dominique said, feeling her voice raise. "You're the one making lists in your mind, not her. If she fancies you, she fancies you. Who cares how many other boys are in the picture? Maybe she doesn't see them like that? Maybe she doesn't care? Maybe she wants to get rid of them, but she can't control them and what they do? If you're at the top of the list, then you're what she wants."

Tommy and Eatins were staring at her as if she'd gone a bit beyond what they'd been discussing. Her raised voice had even gotten the attention of Alice, James, and Jack, all of whom were all looking over at her.

She picked up her broom up off the ground. "Why can't knowing she fancies _you_ be enough?"

With that, she walked off toward the changing room, not waiting around for any of the follow up. Everyone probably thought she was mental—and they also probably wondered why she suddenly had so much insight into Tommy and Kenley's personal relationship—but she didn't care. She only cared what Jack thought; even if she had forced herself to not look at him when she'd walked by.

A random outburst. She couldn't get any more normal than that. It probably had been a bit much since she was supposed to be working her way back into Jack's good graces; not vaguely yelling at him in front of the rest of the Quidditch team. Sarah probably wouldn't approve, but she couldn't say she hadn't tried to do something. That was something.


	25. Colorful Faces

Dominique had always found Valentine's Day to be nothing more than another day on the calendar at best and a stupid innconvince at worst. While everyone else was gearing up for flowers and presents and dates in Hogsmeade that weekend, she always saw it as nothing more than a typical mid-February day. Breakfast, classes, dinner, Quidditch practice, homework, bed.

Watching everyone walk around all moon-eyed and hopeful—or bitter and angry—got old fast. There was the occasional argument or breakup in the common room that would provide a bit of a show; sometimes there was even crying. Mostly though, it was everyone pretending to be far more in love than they actually were; acting as if a couple of roses on one day out of the year meant eternal love was inevitable. It was obnoxious.

The roses were a school staple. Professor Longbottom grew them in the greenhouse in order to sell to students in order to raise money for St. Mungo's, specifically for the benefit of the Magical Maladies and Injuries ward. It was his dedicated cause and one he always pushed for very hard every year. The Valentine's roses were easily his biggest earner of the year, and he would start preparing everyone in January to get ready to purchase some for the holiday.

Dominique never wanted to send any, but she always felt compelled to buy a couple. She usually kept them next to her bed, and without fail every year, Natalie would always ask if they were from someone.

They were rarely from someone—with the exception of Louis, who always gave her a single flower every year. She wasn't about to advertise that her brother was the only one who ever bought her a flower. As a gesture from him, it came off as sweet to look out for his sister. On her end, it seemed rather sad.

Last year, there had been a bit of a shake up; she'd gotten an additional flower to add to her usual collection. There were the two she bought, the one Louis gave her, and then one from Davies. He'd only done it due to social pressure—after all, that's what boys do around here—though he'd claimed he really wanted to. He even claimed he would have gotten her more, but she'd made an offhand comment about Valentine's being stupid so he hadn't wanted to over do it and annoy her. She wasn't sure if that was the truth or that he was downplaying the fact that their relationship wasn't significant.

This year, she hadn't remembered to buy any. Now that she wasn't taking Herbology, she didn't have Longbottom's daily reminders and she'd honestly forgotten to get around to it. On top of that, with Louis gone, that meant she was most likely going to be flower-less for the first time ever.

She'd been up early that morning and had gone down to breakfast on her own while her peers were in the showers and taking extra time to get ready for the special day. Natalie had woken practically buzzing, clearly full of excited energy to see what Flynn had planned since—in order to make up for their argument after the Ministry trip—he'd claimed to be doing something nice. She was busy wanting to look cute and prepared for the mania that was Valentine's, as did ninety percent of the other girls in Gryffindor Tower who had flooded the bathrooms that morning. Dominique had barely gotten in to brush her teeth; every inch of mirror space had been occupied.

Sarah, on the other hand, didn't want to get out of bed. It wasn't a sad state as much as it was a "fuck this day" sort of mentality. She had still been lying there when Dominique had left to go down for breakfast; had it not been for classes, she probably would have hidden up in the room to avoid the insanity of it all.

The Great Hall was decorated as it always was for the holiday, with small cupids flying overhead and pink and red streamers draping the room in an explosion of color. The cupids looked sleepy and bored when Dominique walked in, which was surprising since she really wasn't that much earlier than usual. In twenty minutes time, this place would soon be filled with students clamoring for breakfast and affection. The cupids had better brace themselves.

Near the head table, another—much smaller table—had been set up, and it was absolutely covered with flowers. Bouquets upon bouquets, with piles more stacked behind it; it was practically a mountain of red roses. The members of the Herbology club all looked hurried and a bit stressed as they tried to organize and ready themselves for the queue of people—mostly boys, she'd noticed—that were already turning up to collect what they'd paid for.

She shook her head and went straight to Gryffindor's table; immediately helping herself to pink colored eggs. Someone thought this was a cute idea, but she thought they looked rather underdone as she slopped them onto her plate. Maybe she'd just have toast.

All things considered, she was in a fairly decent mood considering she had no reason to be. The only person she cared about this Valentine's Day was barely speaking to her, but she was honestly no worse off than any other year. She really just had to grit her teeth and get through it as she always did.

"Shit, the queue is already long," came Flynn's voice as he approached where she was sitting. His head was still turned in the direction of the flower table and the twenty plus people already queued up in front of it.

"It's because they haven't opened yet." As the words left her mouth, it was as if someone had heard her. Right then, the president of the Herbology Club greeted the first boy standing there to get things started. "Look, see. It'll start moving now."

Flynn reached over and grabbed a piece of toast. He began gnawing on it as he watched the queue. "I guess I wasn't the only one who thought to get down here early."

"Fairly certain the whole school had that idea."

"You buy any flowers?"

She shook her head.

"I got Natalie some," he said, his attention still on the queue. "You think six is enough? Should I have done more?"

With Natalie, bigger was always better. Even she knew that. She liked to keep up with the crowd, so if most girls were getting a dozen, then that's what she wanted. This was especially true if he was trying to smooth things over from the other day.

"I'd have done a dozen."

"Fuck. You think so?"

"But what do I know? I'm sure she'll like whatever you get her," she said, backtracking her comment as a member of the Herbology Club was now picking up a huge bouquet of flowers—probably around two dozen—and walking it to take it somewhere. It was quite impressive and really showed off how truly beautiful Longbottom's roses were. It caught the attention of most of the Great Hall.

"Someone went all out," Flynn mumbled, also watching as the kid with the flowers started walking down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. It felt like everyone was watching this now to see where he was carrying them to. You had to make an extra donation to get your flowers delivered—though Dominique had to assume that whomever spent their money on that display probably didn't mind the extra fee.

The kid—a glasses wearing Hufflepuff—stopped directly next to Flynn and her. They both turned to stare at him, though Flynn quickly looked at Dominique.

"Hello," said the Hufflepuff. "You're Dominique Weasley, right?"

She stared at him, the piece of toast she'd put to her mouth still between her teeth.

He gestured to set the bouquet down on the table, but she didn't move. It was Flynn who went and cleared the glasses and plates that were currently in the way to make room. When the kid set them down and stepped back, he said. "These are for you."

She let the toast dangle in her mouth and looked rather horrified at the bouquet—which up close was even more lovely. "You cannot be serious."

The kid shrugged. "Dominique Weasley. That's who I was told to take it to." He didn't say anything else, but turned back toward the flower table to return to the rest of the Herbology Club.

"Merlin's tit, this had to have cost a fortune," Flynn muttered, standing up to look at it. "Here. There's a card." He plucked it out and handed it to her, which she took with the toast still in her mouth. She could still feel the eyes of people watching, though most seemed to have gone back to what they were doing.

She set the toast back down on the table and opened the card, sliding it out of the envelope and seeing a handwriting that she'd grown all too familiar with in the last few months. Her face suddenly fell.

_Should have done this much last year when I had the chance. Never too late to start over—Henry_

"Davies," Flynn said, having read over her shoulder like a nosy prat.

She yanked that card out of his line of sight and immediately tore it in half, glancing back up at the flowers. In her gut, she'd suspected it had been him, but she'd hoped she'd been wrong. She'd genuinely hoped he'd finally gotten the message and fucked right off. Suddenly, she didn't find the roses nearly as attractive.

"These are really nice," Flynn said, still examining them.

"I don't want them," she said, tossing the card away and out of sight before returning to her toast.

"Are you mental? They're gorgeous. And they had to cost a fortune."

"You take them, then," she said in between bites. "I don't want them."

He was staring at her as if he hadn't heard her correctly. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Take them or they're going in the bin," she said point-blank, turning to face him. "Go ahead. Blow Natalie's mind. Maybe she'll blow you in return. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Nicki, I…" He looked up at them, not quite sure what to say to that. At the same time, she chanced a glance toward the entrance once she started to hear the sounds of people gathering. It seemed the bulk of the rest of the school was arriving and taking in the decorations; all getting ready to give or receive their Valentine's gifts. Natalie had appeared with Eleanor and some of their Ravenclaw friends. They were excitedly pointing at the exact same decorations that had been put up since their first-year, but still acting as if they were brand new.

She looked back at Flynn. "She's coming, so you better make a choice."

"I...I guess, yeah. Alright," Flynn said quickly. "If you really don't care. I'd hate to see them go to waste."

"Good man," she said as Natalie and her friends drew closer. She could already hear a chorus of "Ooohs" and "Look at those!" as they approached. It was Eleanor who spoke first, glancing between Flynn and Dominique. "Who got those? They're beautiful!"

Dominique took an overly large bite of toast the moment Flynn cast her a quick look. He seemed to be checking one last time if this was okay. When she said nothing, he stood up and smiled at Natalie. "They're for you."

The "awws" and "squees" were practically deafening; Dominique felt like crawling under the table to get away from them. She didn't even have to turn to look to know that Natalie had flung herself on top of him and was either hugging or kissing him all within a foot of where she was still attempting to finish her breakfast.

She picked up her juice glass and slid roughly three feet down the length of the table to get away from the spectacle. Natalie and her friends were all taking turns to look or smell the roses—each commending Flynn on a job well done. In the commotion, Dominique barely noticed Sarah and Jack approach from the other side of the table, both of their eyes wide and surprised by the larger than life bouquet that stood there.

Sarah made eye contact with Dominique, her expression slightly horrified. "What is _that_?" she whispered.

"Flynn got Natalie this really large bouquet of flowers," Dominique said with a fake smile. "And she's really happy about it."

"Clearly," Sarah said, noticing that Professor Flitwick was now making his way down the aisle to most likely tell the snogging pair to break it up.

"Flynn got that?" Jack asked, pointing at him. "That Flynn?"

"That Flynn."

"Then why was he asking me to borrow money to buy flowers if he could afford that?" he mumbled, watching as Flitwick was now lecturing Natalie and Flynn about inappropriate behavior in the Great Hall. "Unless he went and asked the whole bloody school for money."

Dominique shrugged, watching as Natalie picked up her flowers and began carrying them out with Flynn trailing behind her. There were far too many to carry around the school all day to show off as most girls did, but it didn't really matter. Most of the school had just witnessed that display, and anyone who had been there earlier wouldn't have been able to tell that it wasn't Flynn who'd been given them in the first place. Only her, Flynn, and the Herbology Club knew the truth—and she was happy to let it stay that way.

"Ug, this day," Sarah said, picking up a piece of bacon and breaking it in half. A low flying cupid was hovering not too far away and she flicked a smaller piece at it. She missed, but the cupid still wasn't too pleased. "I want to crawl back into bed. Fuck Valentine's Day."

"As, do you need me to buy you some flowers?" Jack joked. "I will if it will shut you—I mean, cheer you up." He managed a cheeky smile—one Dominique hadn't seen in several days—which in turn made Sarah glare at him.

"I don't need your pity," she said, right as morning mail arrived and caught everyone's attention. The owl flock always seemed far heavier today, as presents and cards accounted for more than the usual haul, but Dominique found herself rather startled as owls began dropping cards and packages down in front of her specifically.

Goblets of juice fell over; eggs splattered as a box fell into the plate directly in front of them; other students in the vicinity were quickly grabbing at their breakfasts and cups, lifting them up to avoid getting hit. This went on for a solid minute; by the time the owls had flown off, there were at least fifteen letters and packages now scattered in front of her.

"Your fan club is dedicated," Sarah muttered, lowering her arms down from where she'd been protecting her head. From beside her, Jack had his plate and cup straight up in the air.

"What is all of this…?" Dominique asked, picking one of the packages out of the eggs. She'd never ever considered receiving gifts from the randoms who sent her letters, but now that she had, she felt she should have been more prepared.

Sarah had already helped herself to another package and was tearing the paper off. Her eyes lit up once she saw what was inside. "Oh, this is good chocolate!" She pulled out a small card and read the name on it. "Thanks, Arnie from Bristol. You've got good taste." She held them up to show Dominique. "I'm keeping these as a fee for sorting through all your mail the last few months."

"Keep it all," she said, dropping the soggy egg package back on the table with a thud. "I don't want any of it—"

"Dominique," came a voice that caused her to turn around quickly. She was met by the same glasses wearing Hufflepuff boy from before. He was holding another dozen roses. "These are for you."

She stared at him for an inordinate amount of time. "Are you taking the piss? Those cannot possibly be for me."

"Uh, well, yes they are. And there's another one about the same size," he said, not looking entirely thrilled to have to keep doing this. "These are all requests we got in the post. We just put them all together into a larger bouquet."

"These are from random people!?"

He nodded. "You're very popular this year. Also—" He suddenly handed her a stack of cards, at least ten. "We went ahead and wrote the number of roses each person sent on their corresponding card. When you read them, you'll know."

She continued to stare at him, but didn't budge. He held the flowers out to her and she still didn't move. He looked around awkwardly. "Please just take them."

She turned around and looked back at Jack and Sarah, the latter of whom seemed amused as she popped chocolate into her mouth. Jack's face was unreadable.

"Please," said Glasses.

"I don't want them."

Glasses seemed confused, still impatiently holding them out for her. "Ok, but neither do I."

"This isn't happening," she said once she finally—begrudgingly—took them off his hands. She set them on the seat beside her and stared back at her friends.

"Seems it is," Sarah said, trying to hide her laughter. She held up a piece of chocolate. "This is really good."

She ignored her, but also was now standing up. She glanced down the length of the queue at the people still waiting to buy or pick-up their roses. She recognized plenty of faces standing there, but Tommy was the one who stood out to her. He was standing with some of his sixth-year friends, chatting as they waited to get to the front. She picked up her bouquet and began walking straight toward him. She was apparently going to be everyone's stupid flower fairy.

"You," she said to Tommy as she approached him, watching as he and his friends stopped their conversation and looked at her. "Take these before I throw them in the bin."

"What?" he asked, taking them out of her hands, but clearly looking confused. "Who are these for?"

"Whoever you want to give them to," she said. "Give them to Kenley. Is she still sick? Take them to her now and cheer her up. Tell her these will help her get better. Give them to anyone you want. Just take them."

He was glancing between her and his friends as if he still didn't have any idea what was happening. "Uh, ok?"

From behind her, Glasses appeared once more with the other bouquet of flowers he'd promised her. He said nothing and simply thrust them at her before walking away. She immediately rounded right back on Tommy. "Think she wants more?"

"Are all of these yours? Why do you have so many?"

"Don't ask questions, just take them," she said, glancing over at Tommy's friends. "How about you? You need flowers?"

The tall Ravenclaw with dark hair mumbled something about having already bought some for his girlfriend, but Dominique didn't even let him finish before she practically tossed her second bouquet at him. "Give her more. Split them up between all of you. Eat them for all I care, just take them away from me. Happy fucking Valentine's Day."

With that, she turned and walked back over to where she'd left Sarah and Jack. She sat back down without a word, though Sarah was nodding at her in a very pleased sort of way. "That was nice of you."

She threw her silencing look. "It's not even nine o'clock and I need this day to be over."

"Anywaaaaay," Sarah said in a very sing-song sort of way. "Lucas from France sent this other really nice box of chocolate, and if you're not particularly keen—" She stopped once she noticed Dominique still glaring at her. She then nonchalantly pulled the box of candy toward her. "I just wanted to be sure. It's good chocolate."

She wanted none of it. Absolutely none of it. The only person she would have wanted anything from—and she didn't even want anything other than for him to talk to her again—was sitting directly across from her and had barely spoken. She'd gotten used to him not talking lately, but him having to witness this made his silence feel rather deafening. Her only solace was that she'd managed to get rid of Davies' flowers before he'd seen that.

Just then, right behind Jack and Sarah, her new least favorite person in the world, Glasses, was back with a single flower in his hand. Fantastic, he'd managed to find yet another bloody rose for her. She was about to scream right here in the Great Hall over breakfast.

Glasses must have sensed something in her expression because he suddenly started shaking her head. "You're done. This," he held the flower out, "is for him." He was pointing to Jack. Dominique felt her urge to scream suddenly melt away into something else entirely—though the feeling was equally unpleasant.

Jack had blinked in surprise, as if he hadn't heard Glasses correctly. Sarah even looked rather shocked, and quickly threw Dominique a look as if to say, " _Did you?_ " Dominique shook her head as Jack awkwardly took the flower.

"Who's it from?" Sarah asked bluntly.

"I don't…" He quickly looked at Dominique, already working on the card that came with it. She felt herself suddenly getting very warm as she watched him read it over. His face gave nothing away—he wasn't happy, he wasn't annoyed—if anything he seemed perplexed. After a moment, he finally said, "A secret admirer." He again looked at her.

"It wasn't me," she said, not sure if that's what he was wondering, but also finding the words spilling out of her. "I'm not a secret."

It was now Sarah's turn to look surprised, as if she wouldn't have expected that to come out of her mouth. She smiled at her as if to say, " _well done, you_ ," for at least putting it out there, but Dominique was still too focused on Jack and that stupid flower in his hand. She'd hated all the flowers she'd seen today, but none more than that one.

"I have no idea who this is from," he said, looking around the room. Sarah was looking, too, which prompted Dominique to do the same. Whoever had sent it would probably want to see his reaction. They'd be looking. Who the hell was it? If they were watching, they were not making it obvious.

The bell soon signaled that breakfast was over and it was time to go to class, though everyone seemed sluggish and annoyed to have their fun broken up. All around, people were exchanging gifts and happily celebrating; some were sneaking kisses and it seemed as if many of the boys in the school were now proudly sporting lipstick marks on their cheeks, wearing them as a badge of honor. Natalie had returned absolutely beaming, and Flynn had a few marks on his face himself. It almost seemed as if boys were collecting them as some sort of game. Dominique immediately hated it.

Jack stood to join Flynn and Natalie on their trek to Herbology, and while Sarah also had to be in Herbology with them, she hung back for a moment and claimed she'd be right behind. She waited for them all to be out of ear shot before she looked at Dominique. "A secret admirer?'

Dominique frowned as she tidied up after Sarah's discarded candy wrappers.

"Do something," Sarah said urgently. "It's Valentine's Day, for fuck's sake. If you can't figure something out today, then when can you? Did you get him anything? Even something small?"

She shook her head. "Was I supposed to? We're not together."

Sarah closed her eyes in a very frustrated sort of way; she let her head drop. That apparently hadn't been an answer she wanted to hear. "You just received about fifty flowers from a bunch of random people you're obviously not with. Do you see how that works? Someone wants your attention, so they send you something on this day of gifts and presents that you send to people you fancy?"

"And I gave every last one of them away because I don't care about any of them."

"Yes, but you do care about Jack, so it only makes sense to—" She stopped and shook her head. "I'm not going to explain this. You're doing this to drive me mad."

Dominique grinned a little at that, though her grin slowly faded into something more gloomy. "Whatever. You saw him sitting there. He couldn't seem less interested. He barely spoke more than two sentences to me the entire time."

"Are you serious?" Sarah said. "He was practically fuming watching you get all those flowers. I could feel the heat coming off of him." She paused. "At least none of them were from Davies."

Dominique stopped what she was doing and threw her a look. "Had you arrived three minutes earlier, you'd have seen the two dozen fucking flowers he sent me."

She looked confused. "Where are they? What did you do with—?" It suddenly dawned on her. "Natalie's roses."

She shrugged, neither confirming nor denying that comment.

"Oh, that makes so much more sense," she said. "In all the time I've known Flynn, he's been cheap. A dozen would have been a stretch. Two? There's no way. No way."

"He's welcome to them because I sure as hell didn't want them."

"Why is Davies sending you two dozen bloody roses?" she muttered. "He's such a...I hate him."

"Yeah, well that makes two of us.

Other than being Valentine's Day, it was also a Friday, which meant Dominique only had two classes that day. Ancient Runes and a study hour in the morning, then double Transfiguration in the afternoon. It was usually one of her lighter days, but it also was rather isolating; seeing as she didn't see any of her friends until the afternoon. She'd always felt her Friday mornings were rather cut off from the world on a normal day, but it wasn't until after lunchtime—while she was grabbing something quick for lunch—that she noticed the lipstick face marks from breakfast had spread into a full-fledged epidemic.

Boys—in every house, of every age—were walking around with marks on their faces. Some had one or two, others had far more. It had clearly grown into a trend as almost everyone she saw had a mark somewhere on their face. None of them were even attempting to wipe them off.

"What's with the lipstick?" Dominique asked Sarah once they'd caught up with each other outside of the Transfiguration classroom. She handed her a sandwich, which was their Friday routine, considering it took too much of Sarah's time to run down to the Great Hall after Divination and come immediately back upstairs for Transfiguration.

"I have no idea," Sarah said as she took the sandwich and immediately began eating it, glancing up and down the corridor at the boys and their faces. "I started seeing it after I got out of Divination."

Just down the way, a giggly group of Slytherin girls who looked to be third or fourth-years were kissing the cheeks of two Slytherin boys one by one. The girls were laughing and the boys were looking at one another proudly, pointing out their marks like trophies to each other. Almost as quickly as it had happened, the girls suddenly took off in a group past Dominique and Sarah. As they passed, one of them distinctly said, "That's seven and eight for me!"

"It's still early!" said another before they disappeared around the corner.

Dominique wrinkled her nose as she ate the last of her sandwich. "This is going to be a thing now, isn't it?

"A thing that will probably annoy the shit out of me by day's end," Sarah grumbled, turning to walk into Transfiguration class.

They made their way to their usual seats, though it was when they passed Nick Corning sitting in his usual spot with a handful of lipstick marks on his face that Dominique decided to ask some questions. Sarah continued on, but she'd stopped directly beside him.

"What's this about, then?"

He looked up at her, not entirely sure what she was talking about. When she pointed directly to his face, he said. "It means I've gotten a kiss or two."

"Yeah, you and every other bloke in this school," she said. "Why is everyone not wiping their faces?"

"Oh." He shrugged. "Someone started it. Dunno who. A couple of the girls have a contest to kiss the most boys and leave their mark. Some of the blokes are trying to see who can get the most. It's sort of caught fire with everyone. Just a bit of Valentine's fun. You should try it."

She made a face at him before she walked away without another word. She took her seat next to Sarah and reiterated to her exactly what Nick had told her. It caused Sarah to shake her head. "This day needs to be over."

Dominique threw her a small smile before glancing over toward the door and watching everyone as they entered. Now that she really noticed, it did seem like all of the girls were wearing very obvious shades of lipstick today. Bright reds and pinks; a few duller shades. Almost everyone had something on. The boys were all wandering in and comparing their marks, taking the piss on each other for having too few or two many; there didn't seem to be a correct number. It seemed that flowers were not the only gauge of one's popularity this year.

"Everyone really is doing it," Dominique said, watching all of them. "Even Giggleswick got some." She stuck out her tongue. "Who in their right mind would kiss him?

"I'm so glad Louis is in France," Sarah said. "Can you imagine the amount of lipstick he'd have on his face from all the girls looking to make him a target? And he'd let them because he's Louis and that's who he is." She got quiet for a moment before adding, "And he clearly enjoys kissing random girls."

Dominique said nothing, but did muster a sympathetic smile. Outside of the obvious dig at him, she was right. That was who Louis was. She could see some well-meaning fifth-year plucking up the courage to ask him if she could give him a little kiss on the cheek in the hopes of adding him to her collection, and of course he'd oblige. He wouldn't want to make her feel bad. That would start a snowball effect and he'd be absolutely covered by lunchtime.

The sound of the chair on Sarah's opposite side being pulled alerted her to Jack having somehow snuck in when she hadn't been paying attention. Before she could turn to look, Sarah had already muttered, "Oh, bloody hell."

Dominique glanced over at him, and her face immediately twisted into a reaction she wasn't even sure she could define. He'd taken his seat, but had quite a few lipstick marks on his forehead and cheeks.

Sarah reached out rather forcefully and used her finger to smear the mark on his cheek—leaving an odd looking streak behind. Now he looked ridiculous, which Dominique had to admit was better than what she'd been looking at before. That made her smile a little despite the urge to both punch him and cry now overwhelming her senses.

"What's this, then?" Sarah asked, holding her now pink-tipped fingertip up to his face.

"Nothing," he mumbled, avoiding both of their gazes. "It's a stupid game people are playing. It doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah, we heard," Sarah said, her tone clipped.

"Hope you win," Dominique said in an equally clipped tone, immediately yanking her Transfiguration book out of her bag and forcing the other contents to spill out onto the floor. She quickly stuffed it all back inside, now feeling rather hot. Her body didn't seem to know how else to handle the hundreds of emotions pulsing through her currently. She was angry, but she was also hurt. It almost felt as if someone had punched her in the gut the way it was twisting inside of her. Her breathing even felt tighter. If she looked at him, she may cry.

Sarah was looking at her; she could feel her eyes on her. Dominique knew if she looked at her—which wasn't possible since Jack was in that direction as well—she would make her want to cry as well. Sarah would be able to sniff out her distress if she got a proper look at her, and that look of pity she'd inevitably have on her face would also do her in. She instead gripped her textbook and forced herself to read silently.

"Nic?" Sarah asked gently.

She didn't answer. Sarah didn't push it and Ivanson chose that moment to enter and command the attention of the room—much to Dominique's relief. Not that she was keen to get to Transfiguration, but the distraction was more than welcomed.

"Good afternoon," said Ivanson, stopping to look around the room. "And why is it that with every class I teach, the gentlemen's faces and the ladies' lips are all getting more and more colorful? Some of you honestly look ridiculous."

There was a general murmur of laughter and comments, though he quickly held up his hand and said, "As long as it's for today only and does not distract us from our lessons, I'll let it go. Now, please open your text to yesterday's lesson. We still have much to cover before our revision of the unit starts next month."

From beside her, Dominique could just make out Sarah already scribbling furiously in her notebook. She pulled out her own notes while Ivanson jumped right into lecturing. And she purposely turned herself away from Sarah and Jack. For once, she was giving Transfiguration her entire attention—or so she pretended. Her mind was actually entirely elsewhere.

Halfway through the lecture, Dominique heard a loud shuffling beside her and turned to see Sarah scribbling once again. She slid the parchment covertly along the table to Jack—her eyes on Ivanson the entire time. In turn, Jack, who took his time to acknowledge it, nonchalantly picked it up and looked.

If she didn't know any better, and by the looks of the amount of handwriting down the sheet of parchment, Sarah and Jack had been exchanging notes back and forth for at least the length of class. She threw Sarah a curious look, which she returned with a cheeky smile.

She found herself annoyed by all of it, which was only furthered by the sight of Jack's lipstick covered face once again. Her insides felt hot and tight when she looked at him, though when she turned away, it didn't disappear. This was stupid. Why was she subjecting herself to this?

She stood up, having decided then that she no longer wanted to be here. The one good thing about Professor Ivanson's class was that he hated to be interrupted and often stressed that for things such as trips to the toilet during these double session classes that students were simply to exit quietly and without drawing attention to themselves. There was no need to ask permission, simply don't dawdle and return swiftly. Right now, Dominique was using that to her advantage—though she had no intention of returning swiftly. Let him say something. She'd fake cramps.

Ivanson caught her eye briefly but continued lecturing as she walked out into the empty corridor. The toilets were down the hall, and while she didn't have to go, they seemed as good a place as any to escape to for a few minutes. She wandered in, noticing immediately that it was empty, and walked into a vacant cubicle. She sat on the toilet and let the door slam shut behind her, now resting her elbows on her knees.

Minutes passed slowly as she considered how stupid all of this was; how stupid Valentine's Day was. She had random weirdos sending her presents, her ex who she wanted out of the picture forever was sending her a bloody garden's worth of flowers, and the boy she fancied was getting kissed by other girls.

Why did this day even exist if not to make people stressed out and miserable? People in love could celebrate everyday, not just today. Why did they need a specific day to call attention to things? They don't, which is why this day was especially stupid. This day was created by some arsehole who wanted to give everyone else anxiety and make their lives miserable. Fuck them. Fuck them all.

The bell suddenly rang which made Dominique's head shoot up. How long had she been here? Shit, she'd left all of her things back in class. Everyone was going to notice she hadn't returned. She was really going to have to fake something now.

She exited the bathroom and saw that corridors were now filled with people—many of whom were headed straight for where she was standing to gain access to the toilet. She stepped aside and started walking back toward Transfiguration, avoiding kissing couples, roses, and lipstick marked faces as she went. It wasn't until she was nearly back to class when she found Sarah walking toward her with her bag, as well as her own bag, slung over her shoulders.

"Thank you," Dominique said as they met in the middle, taking her stuff from her. "I thought I'd have to walk back in there."

"Where'd you go? Are you alright?"

"Toilet. Stomach hurt."

Sarah threw her a look. "Does it actually?"

Dominique shrugged, though in a completely deadpan tone, she muttered. "Sure. Let's go with that."

Sarah nodded, obviously understanding. "After you didn't come back, Ivanson asked where you'd gone and I told him you hadn't been feeling well earlier." She smiled. "Flu's going around, you know?"

She laughed a little, now realizing that she was either going to have to either stop by the hospital wing and get a quick check-up signed off on by Pomfrey to bring back to Ivanson—or get detention. A part of her thought detention might be easier.

"Jack asked me if that were true," Sarah continued as they walked, and Dominique noticed they were already heading in the direction of the hospital wing. "The part about you not feeling well."

"He's probably worried that since Kenley's got it, he could potentially be down two players for Sunday," she muttered.

"Well, I told him it wasn't and—I'm sorry—but if he can't figure out why you really left, then he's thicker than I'd ever pegged him for." She paused to look over at her. "I may have told him off a bit. Or rather, wrote him off. We were writing back and forth.

"I saw that."

Sarah stopped and reached into her bag. She pulled out a sheet of folded up and wrinkled parchment, now holding it out for Dominique to take. "Read it."

She stared at it, not entirely sure she wanted to. She knew it was obviously about her, but she was already so exhausted by it all. She was not meant for this life of drama and heartbreak. Younger her had completely had the right idea by swearing off romantic intentions and boys all together.

A group of younger kids suddenly came running and giggling through the corridor, causing her and Sarah to step back to avoid being trampled. Now that classes were over for the day, Valentine's Day mania was in full force. It was time to retreat or be swallowed up. As she leaned up against the wall, she finally—begrudgingly—took the note from Sarah and began opening it.

Sarah's neat, rounded handwriting set itself apart from Jack's short, sloppy script. Not that it was difficult to decipher between the two anyway, but Jack's writing—being left-handed—always tended to be accompanied by ink smears when he wrote in a hurry. Much of his writing, she noticed, was smeared. Sarah had evidently started the entire exchange.

_-Are you trying to be an arsehole?_

_-Sorry?_

_-Don't play dumb._

_-I'm not. What are you talking about?_

_-You know how she feels, and you walk in here with some other girl(s?) lipstick all over your face. What the fuck is wrong with you?_

_-IT'S A GAME._

_-I don't care. You could have washed your face before you came in here if it was JUST A GAME. You wanted her to see it._

_ -No _

He'd underlined the "no" about ten times to the point that the tip of his quill had evidently gone through the parchment from wear. She glanced over at Sarah, who had been watching her read, and pointed at that very part. "For emphasis?"

"Dramatic, right?" Sarah said. "He even made sure I was watching him as he did it. He wanted to make his point."

Dominique let her eyebrow rise before she glanced back down to the note, where Sarah had continued with:

_-And you almost made her cry, so well done._

Dominique looked back up at Sarah again. "I didn't 'almost cry.'"

"Sure. Your stomach hurts. Whatever you say."

Dominique made a face, ready to argue and defend herself—despite Sarah being right—but she was far more interested in finishing.

- _I'm not trying to make her cry. Do you think I would do that?_

_-Doesn't matter what I think, it's what happened._

_-I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't think she'd get upset. It's a game. It doesn't mean anything._

_-You got upset with her for talking to Davies. You can't understand why she'd be upset at seeing other girls' lipstick all over your face?_

_-Completely fucking different._

_-Is it?_

_-Yes_

_-No_

_-YES_

_-NO_

The yeses and nos went on for several more lines; Dominique attempted to imagine them both scribbling angry, one-word responses to each other as they shoved the parchment back and forth between them. Perhaps that was the shuffling she'd heard that had caught her attention in the first place.

Sarah was the one who finally ended the yes/no exchange:

_-POINT IS, she talked to her ex and you got upset. She got a hundred flowers this morning, you got upset. You're letting girls kiss on you, she got upset. You've got some mystery admirer, she got upset. You're both so bloody upset all the time because you're jealous twats who STILL FANCY EACH OTHER._

Dominique looked over at Sarah rather blankly. "Speaking of dramatic..."

"You got to that part, huh?" Sarah asked as they reached the corridor to the hospital wing. "I'll have you know he didn't answer me for over an hour after he read that. After you left class and it became clear you weren't coming back. He didn't say a bloody thing, though when he finally does, he writes back that rubbish—" she gestured to the note, "and I could have cursed him."

Dominique looked down to see what exactly this rubbish was. In Jack's smeared script, he'd written:

_-It's complicated._

_-That's it? That's all you have to say?_

_-What do you want me to say?_

_-Is this fixable, yes or no?_

_-Me and Nic?_

_-YES, YOU DOLT. WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT?_

_-Relax. Maybe? I don't know. Where did she go? Is she actually sick?_

_-Not that I know of. But I have a good guess as to why she left and won't come back._

_-She didn't leave because of me._

_-Whatever helps you sleep tonight._

_-You're annoying._

That was it. That was the end. Dominique looked it all over once again as Sarah watched her. She hadn't learned much from it—nothing had really been said that she didn't know—so she reached out to hand it back to Sarah. "Cool?"

"Class ended so we stopped," Sarah said, taking the note back from her and folding it up. "He was obviously annoyed with me by the end anyway. I know it's nothing too revealing, but—" she stopped to grin at her, "I'll have you know that by the end of class, I evidently touched a nerve because he was definitely scrubbing his face with the sleeves of his robes before he left."


	26. Volunteers

Madam Pomfrey gave Dominique a clean bill of health and told her she seemed fine. Her only suggestion was that she probably ate something that upset her stomach, which Dominique readily agreed with. The sheet of parchment she handed her to prove that she'd been in the hospital wing instead of in class was the only thing she had come in for, and once she'd acquired that, she would have agreed to anything Pomfrey suggested.

Having sat in the hospital wing for the last hour, Dominique found herself oddly relaxed. It was mostly quiet, it wasn't overly decorated for Valentine's Day—outside of a rose that Pomfrey had affixed to her lapel and a few scattered bouquets throughout the room—and the people who were there were not concerned with the happenings of the rest of the school. She'd even run into Kenley, who was also being discharged after her twenty-four hours spent under observation for the flu. She looked fairly well, although not as put together or bright-eyed as she usually would.

"You're not getting sick now, are you?" asked Kenley, once she'd emerged from a spot across the room that had been surrounded by multiple bouquets of roses. There had been enough that Dominique hadn't even noticed her behind them until she stood and walked over.

"Pomfrey says I'm alright," Dominique said as she sat waiting for Pomfrey to return with her paperwork. "So, I guess not. How are you feeling?"

Kenley shrugged. "I've been better, but I'm supposed to be fine by Sunday." She threw her a lukewarm smile. "I know that's what you're really concerned about."

"Happy to hear it," Dominique said, not even pretending that it wasn't true. She pointed over toward the roses. "All of those are yours?"

Kenley followed her finger, as if wondering what she was referring to. She nodded in a rather modest sort of way. "Seems like it."

"How are you going to get all of that upstairs to your room?"

"Pomfrey said she'd arrange for some house elves to help bring them up for me," she said as her expression turned rather amused. "But I hear I have you to thank for some of them."

Dominique feigned dumb and shrugged. "I don't…"

"Tommy told me you gave him a bunch."

She rolled her eyes. "Why would he have told you?" She looked off, her head shaking. "Such a git. Just take credit for them."

Kenley laughed a little. "The impression I got is that he felt it was all a bit over the top. See, he'd already gotten me some, then you doubled that. There would have been a lot of flowers. He didn't want to appear too…" She seemed to be searching for the right word, "overeager? You know how he is."

She didn't actually, but she shrugged as if she did. "But he still gave them to you instead of anyone else. So, instead of claiming to give you two dozen flowers, he only claims one dozen, explains away the other dozen, but still gives you both. It's the same thing with a lot of added bullshit."

Kenley shrugged. "In his head it makes sense. He doesn't want me thinking he spent this fortune on me because that would be weird. I mean, who spends that much on someone they're not dating? But then he still wants me to know he chose me— just so I know. This is Tommy we're talking about. If he's not playing mind games, he's not breathing."

Dominique mumbled a groan, wondering why these fucking games had to exist and why everyone played them. "You know he fancies you. He's admitted it to everyone on the team yesterday."

"I know he does," she said plainly, as if this wasn't news to her. "He's told me. He can be very sweet when it's just the two of us, but..." she shrugged, "those moments are fleeting. He'll say something sweet and then usually attempt to save face the next day by pretending it never happened. Then for good measure, he'll probably try to snog one of my friends."

"Seriously? And you put up with that?"

Kenley laughed. "I'm not any better. I've done stuff to him that's as bad."

"Why?" Dominique asked. "Like what?"

"I don't know," Kenley said with a heavy sigh. "I can't explain why, but sometimes…" She paused for a brief moment as if contemplating how to continue. "Alright, well, the worst was when Jack and I snogged..." She trailed off, as if suddenly realizing who she was talking to and how this may have been awkward. She quickly added, "This was obviously well before you and him were—"

Dominique waved her along as if to get to the point. She was more intrigued by what she was going to say rather than get hung up on some of Jack's past snogging that didn't affect her one way or the other. She may be hung up on the present kissing, but the past was the past. "Whatever. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, that night, he and I had this nothing-sort-of kiss at a party after graduation. I don't know if you remember?"

She remembered. That was a very memorable night in her friend circle; the night Whit ripped Jack apart and created a huge rift between them. That was still talked about for many reasons.

"That happened because Tommy got very wasted the night before and told me he was in love with me and wanted to be with me. I actually bought into it because I was drunk, too. We had a great night together. Perfect, really. For once I thought, we'll make this work. But then the next day, same old shit—acted as if it never happened. He didn't remember. He even went and asked Leisel Parker out to that very party.

"So," Kenley shrugged, "I decided to fuck with him. Jack and I were in a different place back then—very flirty. He was also very drunk. Also, he's one of maybe two people Tommy wouldn't dare fuck with even if he was angry because—and he'll never admit it, but—Jack intimidates him and obviously has the power to kick him off the team. So, what better way to set Tommy off?"

Dominique gaped at her, almost not believing what she was hearing. "Are you serious? That whole thing was…?" She trailed off and started blinking in disbelief. "You have no idea how much shit came out of that night. We still talk about that night."

"Oh, I have an idea," Kenley said with wide eyes. "And don't get me wrong, It wasn't all just for show. He's a cutie and it's not as if I was struggling through snogging him or anything. I had fun. He's a good kisser." She looked back at her and slowly added, "But...you'd obviously know that."

Alright. Now she was starting to push it.

"But, it was never serious. He was still dealing with his ex—who, mind you, yelled at me that night!" She made a face. "She fucking yelled at me. She always hated me. I heard she thought I was the reason they broke up. Whatever made her feel better, I suppose."

Dominique laughed. Merlin's tit. This put an entirely different spin on that entire evening; that entire story. This was a glorious explosion of truth that she only wished she could have heard sooner. She couldn't wait to tell Sarah, or even Victoire.

"Anyway," Kenley said, taking a step toward the exit as if she were about to leave. "Tommy got the hint after that. Not that we've stopped playing games, but we haven't involved other people since then. No more revenge snogging each other's friends, which is progress. I know we sound awful together, but in a weird way, it works for us."

"I'm the last person to judge people for the fucked up ways their relationships work," Dominique muttered, just as Pomfrey returned and handed her a sheet of parchment that stated she'd been checked out and was free to go. She took it with a quick thank you and stood to leave.

"I have to assume you're talking about Davies," Kenley said as they both now found themselves leaving the hospital wing at the same time, "because Jack doesn't seem like the type."

Dominique sighed as Jack and the image of his lipstick stained face popped into her head, "You'd think, but he's not above games. He was walking around earlier with lipstick all over his face just as the rest of them were."

Kenley pulled a surprised face. "From other girls? But aren't you two together?"

Dominique shook her head slowly. "No." She looked at the ground. "We've had some...issues."

"Oh, shit," Kenley said, "I didn't know. And so now he's going around showing off all of the…" She shook her head. "Wow, yeah. I get it. That's straight out of Tommy's playbook." She sighed. "Speaking of him, I bet he's got a face full himself. Can't wait to hear him tell me how they don't mean anything."

"Right?" Dominique agreed, finding herself having an oddly connected moment with Kenley, of all people. Hell had apparently frozen over, but for whatever reason, it felt as if she understood exactly where she was coming from. "I understand we're not together so he can do what he wants, but he's got to know what he's doing."

"Of course he does," Kenley said affirmatively. "They know exactly what they're doing. Then they play dumb. It's so typical. Though, I have to admit, I'd thought Jack might be one of the ones that didn't. It seems he's no better."

Dominique frowned and found herself clenching her jaw. Maybe he was just like the rest of them and she'd been too blind to see it. Just because he wasn't on Davies level of fuckery—which, honestly, was a low set bar to begin with—didn't mean he was suddenly above it all. What if he was trying to rub it in and show her how easily he could move on? How he didn't even think about her or her feelings anymore. What an arse.

She found herself fuming as they walked back up to Gryffindor Tower. There was not a lot of time before they had to get to practice; Kenley said she had to check a few things since she'd been gone all day, but to let everyone know she would be down straight after. Dominique went to change out of her uniform and into her Quidditch clothes, and made the trek all the way back downstairs and out to the arena. Her mind was still swimming and she found herself growing more and more angry—especially knowing she was about to see Jack again.

As she walked into the changing room, she was greeted by most of the rest of the team gathering their equipment and gearing up for practice. Eatins gave out a small cheer when she entered, saying, "She's here!" which caused everyone else to turn and look—seemingly happy to see her. She noticed Jack was missing.

"Why wouldn't I be here?"

"Heard from Jack earlier that you weren't feeling well," Eatins said as he wrapped some handle tape around his broom in a very carefully arranged way.

"Where is Jack?" she asked as she pulled open her locker and immediately set to get her broom out.

"Equipment room," Eatins muttered before he looked up at her. "So, you're not sick?"

"No, I'm fine," she mumbled as she fumbled around in her locker. "Kenley's feeling better as well. She was discharged while I was in the hospital wing getting checked out. She'll be down soon."

That was apparently good news, as a murmur of appreciation and excitement emerged from that announcement. No one seemed more excited than Tommy, who loudly exclaimed, "Is she really out?"

Dominique nodded as she glanced over at him, noticing that he did, in fact, have lipstick all over his face—probably a good ten to twelve marks. She turned and noticed Eatins, too, had a good ten himself, and then James—she stopped and gawked at him. His entire face was covered and he looked absolutely ridiculous. It was as if someone had taken a paint brush and just smashed it against his face. You could barely make out his features underneath the red and pink lipstick smears.

"Honestly, James," she said to him, gesturing to his face. "What the hell?"

He seemed amused at her reaction and immediately smiled. "Girls like me."

"You look like a fucking clown," she said, not even attempting to sugar coat that.

"How many do you think you've got on there?" asked Eatins as he and Tommy now looked as if they were trying to count the marks.

"Fifty-one," he said. "I've been counting. Bloke who gets the most gets twenty gallons. Me and Luke Pepperdine are neck in neck—errr, face in face? Whatever, but I'm going to win." He smiled. "If Kenley's coming, I can ask her if she wants to help out and be fifty-two. I need all the numbers I can get."

"She's coming off the flu, mate," Tommy said, involuntarily squaring up to him. "Back off."

"She could stick to the cheek," James mumbled as if that didn't bother him in the least. "I'm not asking for a snog."

"Why not ask Alice if you're looking for numbers?" Eatins said, gesturing to an otherwise silent Alice. She'd been tying her trainers nearby and looked up at hearing her name.

"Already did," James said dismissively. "She was something like twenty. That was around lunchtime."

Tommy wolf-whistled at that, which made Eatins laugh; Alice turned a little red in the face. She got even redder once he added, "This whole team's going to have snogged each other soon enough."

"It wasn't a snog, it was a kiss on the cheek," Alice said immediately. "Just as fifty other girls obviously did."

"It's still early in the year, love," Tommy retorted, smirking at her as he gestured between her and James. "You've got plenty of time to make that work."

Alice made a face at him, clearly not appreciating the way he was talking down to her, but she said nothing because—ultimately—he did seem larger than life next to her both in appearance and persona. It immediately reminded Dominique of what Kenley had said earlier about how Tommy was only intimidated by a few people. Everyone else was fair game for him.

When he noticed Alice's reaction, he laughed in a pompous sort of way and added, "I mean, he's a bloody Potter. No reason to turn your nose up at that."

"Don't be a dick, Tommy," Dominique said, feeling her aggravation starting to boil over. "Leave her alone."

"I'm not being a dick," he said. "We're just having a laugh." He looked over at her. "Alice, have I said something to be a dick?

Alice stared at him, again not willing to step up to Tommy who she obviously found intimidating. Dominique wasn't sure if she was even fourteen yet, but next to a very seventeen, loud-mouthed Tommy, she looked very small.

"You're always a dick," Dominique muttered, slamming her locker shut and rounding on him. "And for fuck's sake, wash your face before Kenley sees you. Otherwise, I never want to hear you whinging about why you're not at the top of her 'list' ever again. You do this to yourself."

Tommy's brow furrowed as he looked at her, though he didn't say anything. He actually looked as if he may have been considering what she was saying for whatever reason, and even glanced around the room for some sort of confirmation. No one spoke, though he was luckily saved from the deafening silence once the door to the changing room opened to reveal Jack and Kenley now entering. Both she and Tommy turned away from the door—the latter of whom disappearing off to the sinks.

"Hey, look who I found out in the tunnel," Jack said once he'd entered. "She's gotten the all clear from Pomfrey. Looks like you don't have to play Keeper after all, Tom…" There was a pause. "He was just here. Where'd he go?"

"Hey, I'm here," Tommy said, reemerging a moment later with a clean face and a towel in his hand. "Sorry. I heard you. Not Keeping. Happy to hear it." He smiled at Kenley. "I appreciate you getting better and saving me. I really did not want to do that."

She smiled at him and they seemed to have a bit of a moment; one that Dominique chose to look away from since she was in no mood for any of that right now. She instead glanced over at Jack for the first time.

He also was free of any lipstick on his face now; unlike earlier where his face had made her upset, now it just annoyed her. She managed to look away from him before he happened to turn in her direction, listening as he clapped his hands together and told everyone to get a move on and get out on the pitch.

They all did as they were told, filing single file out the door with Jack stopping James to ask him what was wrong with his face. When James explained how he was on a quest to get more girls to kiss him than anyone else in school, Jack seemed unimpressed by the details and shoved him along. Alice and Eatins followed suit, with Tommy hanging back to wait for Kenley to gather her things. Dominique had hoped to sneak by Jack, who was standing beside the door, though that proved to be impossible since he—rather surprisingly—put his arm across the frame to stop her.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, looking her directly in the eyes.

"Fine," she said without flinching.

"I heard you didn't feel well. After you left class—"

"I'm fine," she said, ducking under his arm and walking onward. "Don't worry. You'll have your Seeker for Sunday."

"That's not why—" He paused to glance back into the changing room. "Can you two hurry up? Have a chat later. Now is not the time!"

Tommy and Kenley—both with brooms in hand—came rushing out of the changing room and barrelled past with a quick "Sorry" as they disappeared swiftly toward the pitch. Dominique didn't hesitate to follow after them, though it was Jack who called for her to slow down.

"Hold on," he said, catching up to her. "That's not why I was asking."

"It wasn't?"

"I mean," he shrugged as they walked, "it's good to know. But I'm also genuinely asking how you feel."

"And I'm genuinely telling you, I'm fine," she said as they emerged out of the tunnel and onto the pitch. The cold February air chilled her to the bone and reminded her that she was about to freeze up there on her broom.

"Because if you…" He trailed off. "What I mean to say is, Sarah mentioned you might have been upset about—"

She stopped and rounded on him, though said nothing. That seemed to take him by surprise and he now seemed a little startled as he searched to regain his train of thought. "I, uh, I just wanted to say if I did something to upset you, I didn't mean to. It wasn't trying to. I'm sorry if I did."

Her eyebrow rose at that. Maybe it was because she wondered why he was even apologizing. Why bother? Wasn't he supposed to be angry with her? Why did he even care if she was upset? They weren't together; he owed her nothing. And as Kenley had said, there was no way he didn't know what he was doing. He'd wanted her to see it.

"Fine." she said.

He stared at her, apparently not knowing where to go from there. He glanced around at random and forced a pinched smile. "'Fine' seems to be the only answer I'm getting out of you today."

She'd wanted to say 'fine' once more, just to annoy him, but she bit her tongue and chose to stay silent instead. She wanted this over so she could get on her broom and practice her dives at a dangerous speed. She had a lot of pent up aggression right now.

He slowly sighed. "Alright. Fine." He turned to leave, though immediately turned back around as if he had a second thought. "But I need you to know I wasn't trying to hurt you. I wouldn't do that. It was stupid and it meant nothing."

"So did my conversation with Davies at the Ministry," she said coldly, sidestepping him to pass. "You believe what you want and I'll believe what I want."

She almost thought she'd gotten the last word; that she'd hopefully left him behind blinking and sputtering and confused. She'd gotten roughly ten feet away with thinking this until he called behind her, "You cannot possibly compare the two. They're not the same thing."

She rounded back on him, seeing that he was shaking his head in disbelief and looking defensive. She most definitely had not gotten the last word.

"Your years of history and bullshit with Davies," he said in a loud whisper, closing the gap between them, "is nowhere near the same thing as me playing a stupid game with some girls, who I wouldn't even be able to pick out of a lineup if you put them in front of me right now."

She felt her eyebrows narrowing, but she forced herself to not respond. If she started, things would get bad. She would say something she wouldn't be able to take back. She was in one of those very slippery slope moods where she could easily say things she'd regret if pushed. And he was clearly starting to push.

"You know," he continued, "you're not the only one who's had to witness some stuff they didn't want to see today. Do you think I enjoyed watching the entire country send you gifts this morning? Davies sent you a bloody flower shop!"

Her face fell at that. How did he find that out?

"I asked Flynn where he got the money and it all came out."

She looked away from him. "I didn't ask for any of that."

"Right, fine, whatever," he mumbled. "But you can't blame me for saying 'fuck it' and playing along with stupid games today. It was a reaction to feeling shitty."

"So, your reaction," she began, "to me not being able to control any of that, was to purposely make me feel like shit because you can go get snogged by other girls that easily?"

"No!" he practically yelled. "It had nothing to do with making you feel like shit. It had to do with me feeling like shit and reacting to that! I don't want to snog other girls. If I wanted to, I would."

"Yeah, well, you did."

Jack groaned, his jaw tense and his expression frustrated. "I can't do this right now."

"F-i-ne," she said, enunciating the word more harshly than she normally would as she turned back around and walked over to where the rest of the team was stretching and waiting for things to start. She walked to the furthest end of the group and waited for Jack to give everyone else their instructions before she could fly off and be on her own. She noticed everyone was watching them, though it was Tommy who made the obvious comment.

"I hate when mum and dad fight."

Dominique was the first person back to the changing rooms after practice and the first person to put her things away. She had anticipated an awful practice due to her focus and concentration being rubbish, but she'd oddly enough done exceptionally well. Her dives were tighter; she was getting better speed now that she was angry enough to explode. It was the complete opposite of last year when she and Jack would fight and she'd usually perform terribly. Now, she seemed to be excelling. Perhaps that was a sign.

She was already exiting the changing room before half the team had even made it back, though she had caught James coming around the corner with his colorful face. He'd yelled out that she'd looked great out there today, but she chose to ignore him and continue her way out of the arena and up the hill toward the castle. She planned to grab the quickest dinner she could before marching upstairs, showering and calling it a day. Maybe if she was lucky, Sarah wouldn't have eaten all of that good chocolate. Fuck Valentine's Day.

Through the front entrance, she headed straight for the Great Hall. When she glanced to her left, she was distracted by the sight of Longbottom and Ivanson, along with Erin Tanner, all standing just beyond the entrance. She'd planned to pass right by them, but they apparently had other ideas. Longbottom immediately called out to her once he caught her eye.

She felt a slight rush of panic. Oh, no. Was she in trouble for cutting Transfiguration? It wouldn't explain why Erin was standing there, but it would explain why Ivanson was talking to Longbottom. Shit.

"Glad to see you're feeling better," Ivanson said once she approached, his look appraising. "Well enough for Quidditch practice, it seems."

She forced her face blank. "Um, yes, sir. I suppose my stomach pain passed. Madam Pomfrey examined me. I did go to the hospital wing. I've got the document—"

"We'll worry about that later, Miss Weasley," Ivanson said, glancing at Longbottom. "We've been looking for you."

"I assumed practice had to be wrapping up about now," Longbottom said. "Mr. Giggleswick had said Ravenclaw reserved the pitch at six and it's nearly that now. I figured you'd be back soon."

She stared at them. If this wasn't about her cutting class then what was it about? "Did I do something?"

Longbottom made a funny face. "Why do you always think you're in trouble, Miss Weasley?"

Because she was usually always in trouble. She shrugged and mumbled, "Just bracing myself, I suppose. Usually we only chat when you're about to give me detention."

He laughed a little. There was something in his face that recognized that was generally the case. "Not today. Though," he stopped as if he'd suddenly realized something. "I do owe you a detention, don't I? From the evening of the Christmas Party. I'd forgotten."

Shit. She forced a cheeky smile. "Can we keep forgetting?"

His expression grew amused for a brief moment, though it quickly went straight back into professor mode as Ivanson quipped, "You really should invest in a good Remembrall, Neville. I find them very useful."

Longbottom shrugged him off. "I've never thought so. Regardless," He looked back at Dominique. "Right now, we have other matters to deal with. Professor McGonagall would like to see you."

She stood up straighter. Her? Why? She wasn't in trouble—Longbottom had all but said she wasn't. What else would McGonagall want from her? They'd only even had their first real conversation earlier in the year when she was arranging a Portkey for her to visit Louis in the hospital. In fact, the only reason she could think of for her to want to speak to her again would have to be because of—

"Does this have to do with Louis?" she asked.

Longbottom and Ivanson said nothing, but both forced similar expressions as they gestured for she and Erin—who'd up to this point said nothing—to follow them. Were they going right now? This very minute? She looked down to her practice clothes and beat up trainers. Her hair was piled messily on top of her head and she looked far more appropriate for cleaning the castle, not visiting the Headmistress. She hadn't even managed to grab something to eat.

She and Erin walked in silence as Longbottom and Ivanson chatted about the rose sales this year; how Longbottom was pleased with the sizable donation he would be giving St. Mungo's. It seemed that it was almost ten percent larger than last year, though still about ten percent under his best year ever. That had apparently occurred during a year where a love potion had gotten distributed en masse by a group of students though some tainted butterbeer.

"Terrible incident, of course," Longbottom quipped, "but I won't lie and say it wasn't great for the donation."

As they approached the ugly stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmistress' office, she watched as Ivanson stated "Haberdashery" and the gargoyle sprung up to allow them entrance. Ivanson and Longbottom went back to their chat about Valentine's Day plans, though Dominique took the opportunity to finally speak to Erin.

"Do you know what's going on?" she asked as they trailed behind up the stairs.

"No," she mumbled. "I was going to ask you. Ivanson just came down and pulled me out of the Great Hall and told me I needed to come see Professor McGonagall. I thought maybe you knew."

"The last time McGonagall wanted to talk to me it was about Louis," she whispered. "I had to assume this was more of the same. Maybe he went and got caught in a cave again while I was at Quidditch practice."

They rounded the final bend that opened up into Professor McGonagall's large office with all of her tokens and portraits staring back at them. Behind the large desk in the center of the room, Professor McGonagall sat, holding a piece of parchment in the air as if to be examining it. Her eyes flicked over toward her visitors once they had entered and she immediately placed the parchment down. She smiled in a polite, but curt manner as she stood.

"Miss Weasley. Miss Tanner." She nodded at Ivanson and Longbottom as if to thank them for bringing them. "Thank you for coming."

Both Dominique and Erin nodded as they stood there facing her; neither seemed to know what to do or say.

"I first want to apologize for all the mystery lately," McGonagall began. "Specifically about what happened to the both of you at the Ministry of Magic not long ago."

Dominique's face flinched. Both of them? Had Erin had something similar happen? She turned to look at her and saw that Erin was staring back at her in an identical fashion—completely confused and surprised. This was news to both of them. Dominique hadn't forgotten about the incident at the Ministry, but she felt a little dumb for having not asked around to see if anyone else had experienced such a strange encounter. She hadn't assumed it was something that would have happened to anyone else.

"We're all involved in something that is currently bigger than the pieces and people within it," McGonagall continued. "I'm not quite sure of the details or why it occurred, only that it was necessary for Beauxbatons to plan their second task. Know that I was assured that it was of no harm to my own students, which is why I premited it to happen."

"Pardon me, Professor," Erin said, speaking up first. "But what do I have to do with the second task?"

Dominique wondered this as well, noticing that McGonagall had pulled her spectacles off of her face and was using a special cloth to clean them. "As I said, I have no idea of the details since Beauxbatons has every right to keep their task planning a secret. I can only share some of our educated guesses." She quickly looked over to the other professors before focusing her attention back.

"After such a rigorous physical challenge with the first task, it is to be assumed that Beauxbatons is looking for more of a mental challenge. That is very much within their style of magic. They currently lead the world in Legilimency studies, and that's due to their employment of one of the world's greatest Legilimens, Hector DiSilva. We do know that he has been heavily involved in the planning process."

"You may have met him at the Ministry," Ivanson added. "I was told he was there that day."

Both girls shook their heads, and Dominique couldn't remember anyone called Hector. She was actually still trying to remember exactly what Legilimency was since she wasn't entirely sure. Her gut was telling her it was the ability to read minds, but was she mixing that up with something else? She really should pay more attention.

Erin suddenly made a quick noise as if she'd recalled something,"Does he have long, dark hair? Maybe he'd wear it up in a bun?"

"He does," McGonagall continued.

"Then he's the one who gave me the weird ball," Dominique said. "The one that shot out light and got me all mixed up and..." She had wanted to finish with "ruined my life," but she quickly realized that no one in the room cared about the details of her personal life.

"Yeah, me too," Erin said quietly, again looking over at Dominique. She seemed to have questions she wanted to discuss with her—and Dominique certainly had some for her, as well—but neither actually asked. They instead both turned back toward McGonagall.

"I wish I could tell you what exactly this ball you speak of was," McGonagall said with a genuinely curious expression, "but I unfortunately have no idea. I was not privy to that information. In fact, outside of requesting permission to speak to both of you, we are entirely in the dark."

"But why us?" Erin asked, though Dominique had an inkling as to why she and Erin were the two people standing there. They obviously weren't randomly chosen; they were specifically chosen given their relationships with Louis and Zara.

McGonagall cast a glance at Longbottom for some reason before letting her gaze rest back on her. "Miss Tanner, many times, the tournaments have chosen to incorporate personal connections and relationships into their tasks." She looked over at Dominique. "Perhaps your mother once told you a story about how they put her sister at the bottom of a lake?"

"What?!" Erin asked, glancing at Dominique.

She didn't react. McGonagall was right; she had heard about that. And while it sounded horrifying—someone had taken 'the thing her mother would miss most,' her sister, down to the bottom of a lake and told her that there was a chance she would be gone forever—it really hadn't been as bad as the story made it seem. Granted, her mother didn't know any of this at the time and had been absolutely terrified of losing her sister, she hadn't been in any real danger. It was a good thing, because her mother had completely mucked that challenge up and her sister had actually been rescued by her Uncle Harry—who also believed there was a possibility for her to be lost forever. It had come at great personal sacrifice to his own points and standing in the challenge, but he'd still done it. Her mother always said that was the day she found great admiration and respect for Harry Potter.

"She was perfectly safe," McGonagall added to Erin, "As I'm sure Miss Weasley can attest to." She turned to smile a little. "How is your aunt?"

"She's fine," Dominique said slowly. "Lives in Paris with her family. Doesn't remember anything that happened to her down in the lake."

McGonagall nodded as if she expected that to be the answer. "Right. Well, it seems that Beauxbatons is implementing something similar." She paused to look from one girl to the next. "And the two of you have been determined to be those personal connections. As it was explained to me, after many hours spent studying Louis and Zahara, the powers that be have established that you two are the people they know best. This is apparently important. It couldn't just be anyone, it had to be the two of you. It seems they're both depending on you—though they aren't aware of that."

Erin stood there blankly, whereas Dominique had already started to put the pieces together. They were clearly going to be using her in a similar way they did her aunt for her mother.

She started to feel her breaths going in and out. Shit, were they going to put her in at the bottom of a lake? Did she have to agree to this? Of course she did. This was Louis. She would do anything for him, especially if it meant helping him.

"I wish I had more information for you," McGonagall continued. "I have been assured that you both will be perfectly safe and I have complete faith and trust in Madame Maxine to keep her word. Unlike others..." McGonagall's face suddenly looked pinched.

"Professor, when would this happen?" Erin asked. "The second task, that is?"

McGonagall stood up straighter, addressing them both head on. "You're needed now."

"Now?!" Dominique blurted out before she knew any better. "As in, right now?"

McGonagall nodded, turning back around toward her desk and picking up her wand. "As in right now. And I have to ask you both a very important question that I will ask once and once only." She turned to face them. "Do either of you refuse to volunteer for your chosen champion?"

"I…" Erin stammered, now looking rather overwhelmed. "I want to help, but I'm so confused and I really have no idea—" She looked at Dominique, who immediately sympathized with her. "We have to make this decision right now?"

"Yes, unfortunately it does require immediate action. I received the owl just an hour ago. The task will be held tomorrow morning. I'm told you should both be travelling home by tomorrow evening."

Dominique immediately thought, unless I get eaten by a dragon, which was how she approached everything tournament related. She told herself that her aunt had been left unscathed; her aunt had never been in any danger. Louis might be, but not her. She'd never forgive him for getting her roped into this, but she couldn't leave him high and dry. She'd fight anyone for him, after all.

She slowly nodded at McGonagall. "I want to help him."

McGonagall smiled, glancing over at Erin. "Miss Tanner?"

"If I say no, what happens?"

"I can't say because I don't know."

Erin swallowed hard. She did not look comfortable with this at all, but she quickly nodded. "I want to help her."

"Excellent," McGonagall said, holding her wand up to Dominique's face first. "Then let us begin. And I promise you, Miss Weasley, you will be completely taken care of. You have my word."

Dominique didn't have time to ask any further questions or even press as to why McGonagall had a wand in her face. Before she could formulate the words to speak, she blinked and didn't immediately open her eyes. The last thing she remembered was that her body felt numb before everything suddenly went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! There is still one final part called "Something Lost" that I'm currently posting over at ffnet under the same sweasley username. It'll eventually work it's way over here, but if you feel like getting a jump on it, you can check it out. :) Thanks again!


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